Thicker Than Water
by Randomnormality
Summary: My name is Natasha Winchester and what started off as a mission to rescue my brother from Hell turns into a mission to stop the Apocalypse. Who knew I'd be in for one crazy ass ride? Perhaps, I should have just stayed away? Well, either way, I can't change it now, and at times, I don't really see a need to.
1. Prologue

**Thicker Than Water**

**Summary:**

Neither of us really understood the importance of the bond we share. Neither of us knew what to do with it. We kept it secret, a knowledge that only the both of us knew of, and no one, not even our father, could take it away from us. Eventually, we stopped wondering about the bond we share and just accepted it for what it was. Most of the time, it helped keep both of us free of worry, the physical distance between us too great. Other times, times like now, it appeared to be more troublesome than it is worth.

My name is Natasha Winchester and what started off as a mission to rescue my brother from Hell turns into a mission to stop the Apocalypse.

Who knew I'd be in for one crazy ass ride? Perhaps, I should have just stayed away? Well, either way, I can't change it now, and at times, I don't really see a need to.

**Prologue  
**_The Bond of Twins_

I was four when the Yellow-Eyed Demon came into our home, setting the two-story house ablaze with our mother left inside. I was four when my world crumbled at our feet and we watched the shift in our father slowly grow from righteous anger to furious vengeance. I was four when the life I knew was laid to waste and we were led on a path of revenge on the Yellow-Eyed Demon that changed our lives forever.

By the age of six, my brother and I knew more about occult lore than we did mathmatics or science. We could strip guns down to the guts and put it back together without hesitation or mistake. Instead of going to birthday parties or playing in the park, we watched over our little brother and studied every text we could find. Dean appreciated guns a lot more than I did, but he always seemed amused by my affinity for bladed weapons. As we grew together, so did the bond we shared.

It had been strange at first. A normal day in our lives. Our little brother, Sammy, had been four at the time, Dean and I eight years old. Our father was off doing another Hunt, a secret both Dean and I kept from our younger brother, hoping to protect him from the dark world we were dragged into. I had been getting food from a nearby convience store, giving the man behind the counter a bright smile as I announce I was finally able to spend my 'allowance'. Returning to the hotel, I didn't even look up as I tossed a box of M&M's and a pack of Twizzlers at Dean. He hadn't asked me for them, but said he had been dying for some sugar.

There were more incidences of course. Over time, it grew more and more and we both agreed that it was for the best to keep it between us. What would our father think, learning that his two eldest could hear each other's thoughts? We would have been placed in a mental ward, or worse.

All of that changed after I turned twelve.

I had noticed it before then, of course. I rarely received the praise Dean did, even though I was just a good as him. I was never doted upon like little Sammy was. In fact, it was like I wasn't even there, that I was just a burden. An extra mouth to feed. I don't like to think he did it on purpose.

But he did.

_"Natasha," I glance up at the stern features upon my father's face, once again feeling insignificant as his gaze never meets my own, "You are going to be stay here."_

_I blink, confused. Looking back at the couple, a younger girl hiding behind her mother's leg, I tilt my head before looking back at my father, "Why?"_

_"Because. They are going to keep you safe and you will be able to live a normal life here."_

_"But Dad-"_

_"This isn't up for negotiation, Natasha."_

_I flinch at the stern tone, my gaze dropping to the floor, "Yes, Sir."_

_Watching the shell of the man that had once been my father climb into the car, I close my eyes, pushing down the tears. Why me? Why am I left behind? Did I do something wrong? Why can't he just look at me, for once?_

_**'Nat! I'm sorry!'**_

_'It's not your fault.'_

_**'I tried to make him go back. I told him it isn't right, that he always said family sticks together, but...Nat, he just won't listen. He...He said that you-'**_

_'I look like Mom.'_

_**'How?'**_

_'Remember, you got the brawn, I got the brains out of the package.'_

_**'Ha Ha. Look, I promise, Nat. I swear, when I get the chance, I will find you.'**_

_'I know. Just...stay safe. Sammy too. I love you guys.'_

_**'We love you too.'**_

_"Natasha?" I pull away from my inner thoughts, sniffling as I rub the back of my hand across my eyes, "Why don't you come inside, sweetheart? We'll get ya' somethin' to eat. You're nothin' but flesh and bone, child."_

_"Thank you, Mrs. Harvelle."_

_"Just call me Ellen, sweetheart."_

_Following the woman inside, I glance back over my shoulder, wishing more than anything that I was with my brothers._

It was the worst day of my life. Granted, I was only twelve, but it was. The Harvelle's were a nice family. They tried to hide it at first, that the couple were very familiar with the occult. Ellen's husband was a Hunter in fact. I went to school, studied hard, and I gained enough credits to graduate at the age of sixteen. Ellen had shown pride in my accomplishment and it was then that I knew family wasn't just what a person is born into, but something you make. I spent the next two years bussing tables and waitressing for Ellen (all off the books) at the Roadhouse and saving up money.

I tried to live a normal life. I truly did. I guess, as they say, you can take the Winchester out of the Hunt, but you can't take the Hunt out of the Winchester.

Or is it the other way around? Either way.

I started noticing things. Doing small Hunts here and there. A haunting. A rogue vampire. A witch (and boy do I hate witches). It reminded me why I was with the Harvelle's in the first place. It reminded me that I was never truly alone.

Especially when Dean found out.

_**'What do you mean you're Hunting? By yourself?'**_

_'No. With my fairy Godmother. Yes, by myself.'_

_**'Don't get snarky with me, brat. Are you insane? You're gonna get yourself killed.'**_

_'Relax, Dean. You act like I don't know what I'm doing. I promise, I'm not doing anything too dangerous. A few haunts around town. A rogue vampire here and there.'_

_**'Vampire? Not dangerous my ass! Nat, Dad wanted to keep you out of this life.'**_

_'No. He didn't want a constant reminder of his wife running around. Don't make excuses for him, Dean. He made his choice and he abadoned me.'_

_**'He was trying to protect you!'**_

_'Yeah? How is he protecting me when he isn't around to do it? You know, fathers are supposed to scare off potential boyfriends, or chase off bullies. Granted, I can handle myself, I've been doing it for awhile now.'_

_**'Nat, you aren't being fair. Dad only wants what is best for you.'**_

_'You know, Dean. You can sing his praises all you want, but one day, he's gonna up and vanish on you and then you'll understand what I went through when I WAS TWELVE!'_

_**'You're being unreasonable.'**_

_'And you're being a dick. Leave me alone.'_

_**'Hey! Don't block me o-'**_

We never spoke of Dad again. I continued to Hunt in my spare time and I worked at the Roadhouse until I was twenty-two, saving up as much money as possible. I managed to make friends with two girls my age. Maria Sanchez was a beautiful, dark-haired, blue-eyed girl that had been introverted and quite in the beginning. Kaylin Montgomery was a red-haired, hazel-eyed woman with a personality as fiery, fierce and tempermental as her appearance, but a tech guru and a genius. It was in them that I found myself extending the idea of family, and through them, I learned that not everyone in life abandons people when the going gets tough.

I was twenty-two when Maria was attacked by a possessed boyfriend and everything changed from that point. It was only envitable. It isn't in the Winchester genes for one of us to settle roots down somewhere.

_"Now, make sure you call once a week. Let us know how you are doing."_

_Grinning, I nod my head, "Of course, Mama Bear. Relax, will you. The girls and I just...need to get away from everything around here. Ever since Maria's incident, Kay's been climbing at the walls, wanting to tear the man to shreds. It will do both of them some good."_

_"Make sure you teach Maria how to hold her own. I'd hate to see any of you have to deal with that situation again," Ellen states, giving me a pointed look._

_Flashing her a sheepish grin, I rub the back of my head, "Aw, c'mon, Ellen. That asshole is lucky I didn't string him up by his ankles and gut him like the animal he is. Don't worry, Mama Bear. I'll take the time to show Maria a few tricks."_

_Hearing an obnoxious car horn, I roll my eyes, "You and Jo call if you ever need anything. I'm..."_

_"Not sure when you'll be back?" Meeting Ellen's gaze, I offer her an apologetic grin, the woman giving off a husky laugh, "You're a Winchester, Tasha. It's not really built into you to stay in one place for so long. I'm surprised you stuck around after your eighteenth birthday."_

_"Meh," I shrug, "Felt the need to pay my dues," Ignoring the way lips part, most likely to repremend me for my words, I clap a hand on her shoulder, "See ya' around, Mama Bear."_

_Tugging my large duffle bag over my shoulder, I give the woman a cheeky grin before sauntering over to the midnight blue, 1969 Mustang. Tossing my bag into the trunk, I slide behind the wheel, Kaylin already digging around through my CD collection before popping one into the stereo. Glancing at Maria's curled up figure in the back seat, I inhale deeply before pulling out of the drive way of the Harvelle's. I know I waited long enough for Dean to hold up his end of the deal. An entire year I waited._

_And I'm done waiting. A Winchester never waits._

The girls and I took to the open road for two years and in those two years, I managed to teach them everything I knew while learning new things about my friends that I hadn't known before. Maria was an excellent marskmen, probably able to rank up there with Dean, and I don't know how many times I was thankful for her medical knowledge. Kay turned out to be more of a genius than I previously believed. After two years of traveling on the road, the girls and I settled into a small town in Michigan and I used the money Ellen kept in an 'emergency' savings account to open up my own bar. The basement level had been converted into a workshop for Kay to tinker and create new gadgets and give a new spin on old ones. Maria helped tend the bar and raked in money that kept our Hunts financed.

The next four years had been...easy. We worked. We hunted. We lived. Everything had fallen into place. Until Ellen called me with news. News I wasn't sure how to take.

_"What do you mean, dead? As in he might be dead cause he's been known to disappear for months on end? Or dead as in, hey, the son of a bitch is dead as a doornail?"_

_"He's dead, Tasha."_

_"Why is Mama Bear whispering?" I tease._

_"Well, it might have something to do with two Winchesters sitting in my bar talking with Ash," I blink, "I wasn't sure if you wanted them to know we are aware of you."_

_I snort, "No offense, but how many years has it been? Thanks, but no thanks, Mama Bear. Look, I gotta go. I'll call you after this job is over."_

_"Stay safe."_

_"Safe is my middle name."_

I didn't know how to handle the news of my dad dying. Dean never tried to get in contact with me. It would have been nice if he knocked on the proverbial mental door we had somehow set up between us, keeping us from running around in each other's dreams. Believe me, Dean dreams of things I'd rather not think about. I should have been sad, the man was my father after all, but as I sat in the quiet bar, downing yet another glass of rum, I found myself unable to shed a tear.

Of course, none of that could prepare me for the day Dean became a Hellhound's chew toy.

_"Aw, man! These were my new jeans!"_

_My head falls back as laughter leaves my lips, Kay and I entering 'The Hole in the Wall' after yet another successful hunt. Maria greets us cheerfully as she pours three celebratory shots._

_"So? Who won?" Maria asks._

_"Eight."_

_"Fourteen."_

_I snicker at Kay's glare before raising my glass, "To those that are dead and to those that just won't stay dead!"_

_"Here! Here!"_

_As the whiskey hits the back of my throat, my entire body seizes up, my throat clamping around the liquid before I am forced to spit it all over the bar table. Screams of agony fills my head, my fingers becoming lax on the shot glass. A sharp burning sensation claws along my body, the glass shattering agains the floor as my hand clenches tightly at my shirt. Distant howls and growls swirls around my head, the clawing sensation greeted by oppressive heat, my knees buckling beneath the weight of my body._

_'Dean!'_

_**'Nat! Oh God! Nat, I'm so sorry.'**_

_'Sorry? What's going on? Please, tell me you and Sammy are alright?'_

_**'Sammy's fine. I...Nat, you have to close the door. You have to close the door and never look back.'**_

_'Dean...'_

_**'Sammy died last year and...I did the only thing I could think of.'**_

_My eyes close, the pain searing and hot, my skin on fire, 'Please tell me you didn't make a deal with a demon?'_

_**'I'm sorry, Nat. I thought...if I died, our bond would be severed. Nat...I'm sorry I never found you.'**_

_'Not your fault. I didn't want to be found.' I bite down on my bottom lip as a sharp pain pierces through my shoulder, 'But I'm not turning my back on you, Dean. We're family. I'll do what I can to help you survive this and I will try to find a way to pull you out.'_

_**'No!'**_

_'Don't worry. I won't go making deals, I promise. Just...keep the door shut, unless you are able to go to sleep in Hell. Then...you can come find me in your dreams.'_

_**'I love you, Nat.'**_

_'Back at ya', Bro.'_

_"Tasha!"_

_Blinking back into awareness, I groan at the sight of my palm decorated in red cuts, the shards of what had once been my shot glass pierced through my skin. Carefully removing the glass and brushing away the blood, I move to my feet, limbs quivering as I drop my ass onto one of the stools._

_"Maria, leave the bottle. The three of us need to chat."_

Three months. Months that felt like decades. Three months I found myself fighting against the instinct to open the door between our minds, the clawing, burning and constant knocking inticing. At night, Dean was in my dreams. Sometimes, we talked about the good old days. Sometimes he asked me about Kay and Maria. Sometimes I asked him about his experiences Hunting with Sammy.

Most of the time, we spoke of revenge. Of slicing and dicing up the demon set on torturing Dean. Of the several different ways to use Holy Water as a torture device. Or how salt can come in handy. We spoke of ripping those milky-white eyes out of the demon's skull and slicing his tongue from his mouth. Of watching him choke on his own blood. Watching the wounds fester and the man cry for repreive.

Then the dreams stopped and so was the constant knocking against the mental door. All was silent.

That's when I knew it was time to talk to an old friend.

_"Are you sure you don't want us to come with ya?" Maria asks as I toss a bag into the back of the Mustang._

_"No. I'll be back as soon as I can. Unless it's an emergency, no Hunting while I'm gone, okay?"_

_Kay nods slowly, "You got it, Boss."_

_Offering the fiery-haired woman a half-assed grin, I shrug a shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat, "I'll call you when I figure out what's going on."_

_After driving over the city limit, I dig out my cell phone and scroll through the list of contacts. Finding the contact I need, I lift the phone to my ear._

_"Hello?"_

_Hearing the gruff voice, I swallow the lump in my throat, "Hiya, Bobby."_

_"Who is this?"_

_"It's Natasha. I-"_

_"Nat? Where have you been girl? We've been lookin' everywhere for ya'."_

_I snort, "Hey. When I don't want to be found, I get lost. Look, I...I need to come talk to you. I have a really...bad feeling in my gut."_

_"You eldest Winchesters and your guts. A bunch of idjits is what y'are"_

_Snickering despite the situation, a small half-smile tugs across my lips, "I should be there by nightfall."_

_Hanging up, I inhale deeply and silently pray that something, anything really, will help my brother. He didn't deserve Hell. He may not be a model citizen, but I'd like to see anyone grow up in our life and come out compassionate and in touch with their 'inner most emotions'. No. My brother was a good man. He doesn't deserve Hell. He doesn't deserve months of torture._

_'Please...someone help him. Someone save Dean Winchester.'_


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One  
**_The Winchester Reunion_

* * *

"You best have gotten some shut eye, girl."

Seeing the steaming mug of freshly-brewed coffee placed on the table from the corner of my eyes, my fingers freeze in their strokes across the keyboard, "A few hours. Sleep's kinda hard to come by nowadays."

I know I look like shit; my mess of blonde curls thrown up into an even messier bun, green eyes bloodshot and sunken, black bruising along the bottom of my eyelids practically acting as a bold, neon sigh screaming to everyone about my lack of sleep. It isn't that I can't. After constantly having Dean, in some manner or other, in my dreams, I find the utter darkness of my mind inescapably cold. It doesn't help that the past few nights, my dreamless subconscious has been filled with a deepened melodic voice chanting lavishly in a language I have never come across before. I don't like people in my head; I make a habit of steering clear of any psychics, and knowing that someone, other than Dean, is in my head somehow is doing nothing to put me at ease.

"What are ya' doin' on that thing, anyway?"

Research. Trying to recall the words whispered in my head. Looking up at Bobby, I offer him a small smile, "The girls are currently in the midst of having issues with a Shifter, Skinwalker parading around like Maria. Kaylin finds the situation far to amusing for my comfort."

"These girls you speak of? They Hunters?"

"Not always," I quip, my fingers moving along the keys once more for a brief moment, "Maria was my Chemistry lab partner during my last year in high school. She attended the local university, completed her studies to be a medical assistant and was going for a degree in psychology, said she wanted to be a therapist that worked with the patient instead of shoving pills down their throat and slapping a psychosis label on them. Unfortunately, all that came crashing down, when her boyfriend," My fingers twitch as the memory flickers through my mind, "was possessed by a demon that had a kink for preying on young, naive college girls."

I pause, taking another sip of coffee, inwardly thankful as the taste of coffee washes away the bittersweet flavor in a phantom-like taste, "Kaylin is completely insane, but a certifiable genius. She's a bit of a tech-junkie too. Has a knack for taking things apart, down to picking every removable piece, just to figure out how it works," I crack a grin at Bobby, "Did I tell you, she managed to create a frag-grenade with a hidden chamber inside, encasing multiple silver needles soaked in Dead Man's Blood?" The impressed gleam in Bobby's gaze pulls a nod from me, "Yeah. Believe me. It makes taking out a nest of blood-suckers a cake walk. I met Kay while working after I finished high school, ended up becoming friends through pop culture references and similar tastes in music. Didn't even know she was Maria's roommate until I was forced to...deal with the thing."

Sighing, I run my fingers through my fringed bangs, "Maria was catatonic for the following month. Kay was climbing the walls, hunting down every piece of Occult Lore she could find, angry at herself for not knowing. When I told them I was leaving, they all but demanded to come with. We spent two years on the road, me teaching them the ropes and what not. The rest is...history."

"What about after those two years?" Bobby questions, taking a sip of his own coffee.

Shrugging a shoulder, I crack a grin at the thought of _my_ baby, "We got tired of being on the road, so...we settled into a house on the outskirts of a small town up in Northern Michigan. I bought an abandoned roadside bar, had it rebuilt and cleaned up, and made it my own. Kay and I still go on Hunts, most of them emergencies, but we mostly stick to the area. Most of our patrons are Hunters we've met on the road or rescued victims we saved. Kay keeps information flowing to the Hunters and keeps _our _gadgets up-to-date and constantly improving. Maria provides medical care for injured Hunters while also helping troubled rescued victims that find it difficult to return to their normal lives after their experience. I help give consultations for Hunters and run a make-shift way-station. Even have a couple rooms above the bar in case people need to crash for a few nights."

The sudden gleam of pride in Bobby's eyes makes me uncomfortable, causing me to drop my gaze, "Well, I'll be damned. It's good to see one of you Winchester brats got your shit together," Bringing my eyes back to his, I cock an eyebrow at his words, "Don't get me wrong, those brothers of yours are damn good at what they do, but...they allow this life to consume them to the point where it's always them looking for the next Hunt."

All I can do is nod, mentally blaming John Winchester for burning that particular trait into the skulls of my brothers. My life may not be filled with sunshine and daisies, but I like to think I live a life worth having. That my time spent, is spent helping others through their crisis. Maybe not like my brothers, who throw themselves into Hunting and duck out of town. No. I help them during and after. Help them live and help them cope with the fresh knowledge that we, Humans, are not alone in this world.

* * *

A resounding crash and muffled shouts from downstairs causes my grip on the hairbrush to go lax. Ignoring the fact that I'm dressed in a pair of yoga pants, a dark purple sports bra with a sleeveless green-and-black button down left unfastened, I dash for the silver knife stashed under my pillow. Swiftly exiting my room, I effortlessly bound down the stairs with a well-practiced silence. Peering through the archway, I spy Bobby standing at the ready, a chair positioned hesitantly between himself and the other man. Watching as the stranger takes Bobby's silver knife, dragging it along the flesh of his bicep, I am surprised when the old man drops his guard completely.

Only to utter a single word that forces all thought in my mind to freeze.

"Dean?"

Dean?! This is Dean? Peering over the man's profile, I swallow needlessly at the tightness in my chest. Dark-blonde hair only slightly askew. Overall tan complexion. Round face with high cheekbones, speckled with a light dusting of freckles, and a predominant jawline accentuating his masculinity. Watching as Bobby embraces the man around his broad shoulders, I take note of his natural build, his body stature marking him as a 'working' man.

"It's good to see you, boy," Bobby states, smiling at him, "And I'm sure there is someone else here that will be happy to see you back."

"Sammy's okay, then?" His voice carries a natural husky tone, nothing equal to the voice in my dreams lately, but husky nonetheless.

Damn. I should have known the old man would have noticed me. Seeing Bobby turn his head in my direction, Dean whirls around, only for the excitement across his features of fade, quickly replaced by disbelief and shock. Tension fills me as he takes a step closer, his movements hesitant as a slow, unsteady hand raises. As calloused, roughened fingers ghost over my cheek in a feather-soft touch, I fight the urge to flinch, the familial touch one I am not accustomed to.

**'Is it really you? Tell me I'm not dreaming.'**

Nodding slowly, I grunt as I soon find myself pulled into a tight embrace. My arms stay at my side, unsure of what to do, as I find my forehead coming to rest on his broad shoulder. Despite my tension and weariness of being held in such a manner, a sense of comfort fills me as his arms tighten around me for a brief moment, his chest expanding as if trying to make sure this is all real. Feeling him pull back, his hands carefully gripping my shoulders before gently pushing me back slightly, I blink up at him.

"Good to see you, Sis."

His words are mere whispers, the sound familiar to a time where we would sit up, late at night, our voices low as to not wake the sleeping sibling. Seeing the broad, infectious smile cross his lips, I am unable to keep the small smile from pulling at my own. So many years, and he makes it seem as though I've never left.

Maybe for him, I never did.

* * *

_"What the fuck do you mean you're staying longer? Tasha! You've been gone for a month. So help me, if I have to track you down myself and drag you back, I-"_

"What do you want me to do, Kay?" I question softly, knowing that my friend is only worried, "Dean wants me to go with him and Bobby to see Sam. Try to find out who, or what, pulled him from the Pit. This...is just something I have to do."

_"Fine! But when your ass walks back through the doors of the 'Hole', I'm gonna stick a dart in your fucking skull!"_

Snickering at her threat, my eyes rolling in spot before managing to catch sight of Dean's figure standing awkwardly in the doorway, "I wouldn't expect anything less. I have to go."

Hanging up the phone, I turn completely to face my twin. Seeing the same green eyes that are constantly reflected back at me from every mirror staring at me from my brother's face, I offer him a small smile. Nodding my head, indicating for him to enter, I watch him move further into the room before sitting on the bed beside me.

"Something up?" I ask, breaking the odd silence between us.

Shaking his head, his gaze lifts from staring at his hands, meeting my own, "It's been so long. I'm...not even sure what to say."

"You could always start off with 'Oh, hey Nat. How have you been the last decade and a half?'," I quip, the cynical tone causing my twin to flinch. Sighing, I run my fingers through my bangs, "Relax, Dean. You were too busy and I moved on with my life. It happens."

"I promised you-"

"I know you did. I remember. Look, Dean, you don't have to apologize," I look over at him, shrugging a shoulder, "The only person I ever really blamed was John," I ignore the way he winces at the use of our father's first name, "I...am glad though. That you are alive. It hasn't been easy these past few months without accidentally falling into one of your...uh...explicit dreams."

Letting out a bark of laughter, the tension fades between us and I muse over how easy it is with him, as he responds, "This coming from the girl with a constant inner monologue that won't stop."

Snorting, I bob my head in a quick nod, "Shit, don't I know it. If I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to myself. It's horribly disturbing if you ask me."

"Who were you talking to on the phone?"

"Kay," I slowly tense at the blank, unknowing stare. I'm pretty sure we spoke about this during his time in the Pit. Why is he acting as if he didn't know? Shaking my head, filing away the information for later, I offer him a smile, "A friend of mine that's just...worried about me being gone for too long."

Dean flashes a smile, "Nice to hear there's people lookin' out for ya. Now, enough of this chick-flick moment. Let's hit the road."

Nodding, I grab my small travel bag, double checking to make sure my palm pilot is on hand. Honestly, I can't go anywhere without having someway of getting in touch with the girls, or a way to look over the books for the 'Hole'. Following the pair outside, I step toward the Mustang, pulling the trunk open. Spying a secondary bag, I double-check the contents before hooking it over my shoulder, carefully shutting the trunk door. I snort, rolling my eyes at the sight of Dean carefully, and lovingly, caressing the midnight blue roof.

"Well, isn't she a cherry," Dean's eyes are bright with adoration as he glances up from the car, "Can we take her?" Nibbling on the inside of my cheek, I watch as his smile falls slightly and he visibly (though he will never admit to it) pouts, "Aw, c'mon, Nat."

Groaning, I run my fingers through my bangs, pausing briefly to rub along the bridge of my nose, before I nod, "Alright, fine, but I'm driving, and if you don't like my music, you can ride with Bobby."

"As long as it isn't that Indie-Rock/Country shit Sammy listens to," I snicker, bobbing my head in agreement to the thought and as an answer.

Sliding behind the steering wheel, I immediately pull down the sun visor, my index finger skimming along the several albums slotted in the cloth cd organizer. Tapping my finger against a familiar disk, I slide it out of the organizer and into the stereo. Ignoring the subtle twitch of his eyebrow as Avenged Sevenfold's 'Critical Acclaim' filled the air, the engine purrs to life as I turn the key in the ignition and pulling out of the driveway, I give a small gesture to Bobby to lead the way.

* * *

I know I shouldn't be thankful for the skirmish that occurs upon Dean's arrival to the hotel room, the confrontation allowing me to slip into the room unnoticed. Hearing Dean call the tall, towering man Sam, I bite down on the inside of my cheek. While Dean's natural build seemed more 'working' man, Sam's long limbs were decorated with lean muscle build and tightly corded muscles. The obvious power in his limbs is shown as his struggling forces Bobby to fight to keep a hold of him as he lashes out at Dean. As the air is cleared between the two, I watch with a saddened smile as my two brothers embrace each other as if it was their last.

When was the last time I was greeted in such a manner? Sure, Dean embraced me upon realizing I was really here, but before that, most of my embraces were strictly about getting sexual release, not the doting, loving hold silently promising that everything is going to be alright. It is obvious to me that Sam and Dean are both close, especially when Sam's female companion questions their relationship, apparently shocking Sam out of his daze. As the woman leaves, I remain leaning in the corner of the room as Sam moves to throw on a button-down shirt. Tensing as the towering giant pauses in the motion of buttoning his shirt, his hazel eyes (so much like John's) meeting my own, head tilting in confusion.

"You get a girlfriend while you were in Hell?"

Sam's half-attempt at diffusing the situation with humor causes both Dean and I to shrink back in disgust, simultaneously shuddering before our voices chorus a stern, "No."

"Oh? Who is she?"

"I'm/She's your sister," We chorus again and I turn my gaze on him at the same time he does, shooting him a glare, "Stop that," Hearing our words echo each other, we both groan, shaking our heads before turning back to Sam, "This is your sister, Nat/I'm your sister, Natasha."

Bobby snorts, obviously getting a kick out of the twin-vibe we display, but I notice the sudden shift in Sam's disposition as he looks me over once more, "Natasha?" My name leaves his lips in a question, as though his mouth isn't used to using the name, "What is she doing here?"

Clearly wanting to avoid a Battle of the Wills -Winchester Style-, Dean steps forward, "How much did it cost, Sam?"

Sam's attention is pulled away from me and I fall back into my thoughts as Dean demands answers from a just-as-confused Sam. I know it's going to take time for Sam to relax around me, obviously someone believed John's story about 'leaving me for my safety'. I remember Dean, many years ago, when we were still teenagers, telling me that he didn't have the heart to tell Sam different. Sam apparently had enough issues with John up and leaving for Hunts, abandoning his children for a brief while, and Dean figured if Sam knew their father left her due to his own personal issues, it would make things more difficult for the three of them. I'm not offended Dean went about it that way, in fact, I feel as though if our places were reversed, I would have done the same.

As Bobby mentions visiting a psychic, my thoughts deepen. Sam insists he didn't make a deal, because no demon would deal, and while I take that file that piece of information away, I listen as they question who did it. Wondering mildly if it is possible for something, other than a demon, to be capable of getting in and out of Hell, with a soul along for the ride, I absentmindedly follow the boys outside as I fish out my palm pilot.

_Hey. I need to pick that over-sized brain of yours._

_**Alright. Pick away, Boss.**_

_General summary: Dean's been yanked from the Pit. Sam didn't make a deal, because apparently no demon would deal. You think you can pull up any and all information on any creatures capable of slipping in and out of Hell, other than a demon that is?_

_**Give me about ten minutes and I'll send you the info.**_

_You're the best._

_**You're still getting a dart to the forehead. What are you going to do about this thing?**_

_Kay, whatever this thing is, it pulled my brother out of Hell. I'd probably kiss the damn thing before thinking about ganking it._

_**Lol. I just pictured you tonguing a demon, or something witchy. I'm actually surprised you didn't cave-in and use the...favor owed to you.**_

_If no demon would take the deal, I doubt that smarmy bastard would._

_**True. Alright. Five minutes and counting.**_

_Thanks._

As my palm pilot begins downloading information, I begin tapping the stylus along the screen, shifting through the select few creatures. Damn. I love being friends with a genius.

"Hey!" Jumping, my thoughts shattering as I blink up at Dean, Sam standing behind him, I offer him a shaky smile, "Somethin' important on that thing? Because Bobby said his psychic friend lives about two hours from here."

Grimacing at the thought of a psychic looking through my head, I shrug, "Sorry. I was trying to pull some information together. Figure out any possibilities of what might have pulled you out."

Dean's eyes brighten with surprise, "Really? Figured we're dealing with a demon."

"Perhaps," I state, bobbing my head absentmindedly as I turn my attention back to the pilot, "but there are other creatures capable of pulling souls out of Hell."

"Gone for how many years and now you're an expert on the Occult?"

Hearing the snark in Sam's tone, I bring my glare up to him, "You best check your tone, _Samantha_. I knew more about Occult before you could walk and talk without tripping over your own feet. Newsflash, Sam, you were the one that stated no demon would make a deal to pull Dean out of Hell. Since Crossroad Demons practically eat that shit up, I'm asking you, why you think it _is_ a demon?"

At Sam's silence, Dean shakes his head, his body tense as if unsure who to back up, "So. What did you come up with?"

Gazing over Kay's information, I flick through each depiction, "Hm...let's see. Witches are capable of raising demons, so it's possible they can pull a soul from Hell as well," I really hope it isn't a witch. Blood is a bitch to get out of denim, I think while absentmindedly running a hand along my jean-clad thigh, "Any chances of a Reaper gone rogue. Shit, I even have Lucifer as a possible suspect."

"Lucifer?" Sam questions in disbelief, "As in the Devil?"

"Technically, he's not a demon. Evil and corrupt as they come, but a non-Demon nonetheless," Realizing I'm not going to get anywhere with Sam, I turn to Dean, "Look, I will follow you both to the area the psychic lives, and while you two have a nice, lovely chat with the brain picker, I'm going to find an abandoned warehouse and get it set up."

"Set up?" Both of the boys chorus.

"Don't know about you, but I'm tired of running around in circles. You guys figure out what pulled Dean out and I'll keep busy setting up a trap for you," I shrug a shoulder before offering them both a small smile, "Not a big fan of psychics. I'll text you the directions to the warehouse when I find one."

Already opening up a tab to start a general search for abandoned warehouses, or condemned buildings, I head off toward the Mustang, leaving the two brothers behind. Good Lord, I'm starting to remember why I always avoided my family.

* * *

Tensions fills me, the basic fight or flight instincts screaming at me as the warehouse rumbles from an unseen force, light bulbs bursting as the large doors to the warehouse pushes open. The man calmly closing the distance between himself and Dean doesn't not falter in his steps as bullets hit his chest, apparently causing no sufficient damage. The long tan trench coat thrown over a black suit and a wayward blue neck tie seemed ambiguous at best, but he pauses directly in front of Dean, head tilting in a slight fashion.

"Who are you?"

"I am the one that gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition."

That voice! Ignoring the slight wince along Dean's features, the twitch of his jaw indicating that my mental cry slipped through our bond. The roughened voice, monotonous at best, sent a shiver of realization down my spine. The voice from my dreams belongs to the creature that saved my twin. My eyes slide shut as Dean's hand gripping the Demon Knife from view is brought around, the sudden influx of wonder and weariness blocking all else out. A thud sounds and my eyes pop open to see Bobby crumbled to the ground, my body instinctively moving toward the older man. Impossibly-dark blue eyes appear before me and seeing the hand raise from the corner of my eye, I instantly curl away from the man, dropping to the floor and rolling myself away from him, remaining in a defensive crouch.

"Don't touch her."

The stern command from my brother pulls the creature's attention toward him, "We must speak alone, Dean."

"Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of her," Dean retorts viciously, moving to stand between myself and this man. "Now. Who are you?"

"My name is Castiel."

"I get that. I mean, what are you?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord."

I can feel my eyes brighten with surprise, even as my twin dismisses the idea. Seriously, did that genius I call a friend ever suggest something wrong? Of course. Lucifer was an angel, an archangel at that, before he was cast out of Heaven. Listening as Castiel insists Heaven and God has work for my brother, I watch as he takes a step back, the motion indicating the beginning of him taking his leave.

"Wait!"

The angel freezes and I mildly wonder if I am somehow possessed, my body moving on its own. Wrapping my arms around the angel in a quick embrace, I feel my body respond in kind to his tension, and I shudder at the feeling of being this close to someone. Biting the inside of my cheek, I take a step back, watching as those blue eyes skims over me briefly.

"Sorry. I...just wanted to show how much I appreciate you saving Dean," The angel's head tilts in a curious manner before his gaze freezes on the silver charm bracelet decorating my wrist, "If there is every anything I can do in return, I owe you one."

His eyebrows crinkle with curiosity and wonder and I wait for a response. Nothing is said. The angel meerly tilts his head to the ceiling and a ruffling sound fills the air. As the angel seems to disappear from view, I turn back to Dean.

"What the hell was that?" he questions, the over-protective brother mode not something I'm used to.

Shrugging a shoulder, I crack a grin, "Just what I said. I was thanking him."

"You couldn't have just said, 'thank you'?"

Snickering, remembering my conversation with Kay, I shake my head with bemusement, "It could have been worse," I state as I kneel down, helping my brother lift Bobby off the ground, the two of us hoisting him out of the warehouse, "I would have kissed him if I didn't feel like he'd spontaneously combust."

"Ugh, I'd like to think you're still a virgin," I snort inwardly at his words as we manage to make it to Bobby's truck, "You are still a virgin right?"

"Is lying still considered a sin? Because I don't really feel like being the next Winchester in line for Hell."

_"Natasha!"_

The groaning cry of disgust causes me to laugh outright, my grip on Bobby going lax and I wince as the old man hits the seat of his truck. Spying a small grin on my twin's lips, I offer him one in return.

Despite everything that happened over the last decade, I really am glad he's back in one piece.

_'Thanks, Castiel. Where ever you are; Thank you for bringing him back.'_ I pray inwardly, remembering the last time I prayed was the night my connection with Dean went silent.

* * *

"You're really leaving?" Looking up from putting my bags in the trunk, I spy both of my brothers standing a few feet away. Realizing Sam is the one that spoke, I tilt my head at him, "Just like that? Just taking off, get back to your apple-pie life?"

"Alright, Sam. You got somethin' to say? Spit it out, because I have a relatively long drive ahead of me, and I'd rather get on with it," I retort, slamming the trunk door shut as I turn, squaring off with my younger brother.

"Sam-"

Sam shakes his head, cutting off Dean's attempt to stop the argument, "You can't have it both ways, Natasha. Either you're a Hunter or you're a civilian. Either way, pick one and stick with it. You can't just come back into our lives and then vanish."

Smirking, I cross my arms over my chest, trying to fight off the urge to blow up at him, "Last time I checked, Sam. I have a say in what happens in my life, and if I want to swing by Bobby's after learning that my twin's been dragged to Hell for being a fucking idiot, then I'll do as I fucking please. Was I going to run around looking for you, knowing that you were going to make the same, dumb-shit deal? No. I'm not you, nor am I Dean. Sorry I have a life."

"You think we're stupid? For wanting the only family we have left back in our lives?" Sam sneers out.

"No. I think your fucking stupid for making deals with demons. I'm going to assume that stupidity runs through the male Winchesters and be thankful it stays there," I retort.

"Well, if you want to go and abandon the only family you have for your perfect life then go," Sam shoots back, his arm gesturing toward the road.

Dropping my arms, I take one step toward my towering younger brother, hands clenching into fists, "Fuck you, Sam Winchester! You really think family is all about flesh and blood? Well, I have news for you, it wasn't my flesh and blood that showed up at my graduation. It wasn't flesh and blood that stood by me when my perfect fucking world fell apart. It wasn't my flesh and blood that has been there, by my side, through every triumph and every fall. So, you can go fuck yourself." Sam's angered expression falters, but I don't stop, "I'm so sorry I was able to be tossed to the side, unlike you or Dean, but I'm not living my life for John Winchester, nor you, nor even fucking Dean. The life I have, is a life I made, all on my own. So yes, I am returning to it."

Sam shakes his head, turning on his heel before stalking back inside Bobby's house. I barely get a chance to face Dean before my face is smashed against his chest, arms wrapping around me loosely.

_**'I wish you would stay.'**_

_'I'm sorry, Dean, but I have to go back. Look, if you manage to smack some sense into Sam, get my address from Bobby. I'm not going anywhere, Dean.'_

"I'm keeping my promise, this time," Dean states, pulling away from the embrace, his hands gripping my shoulders, "After I talk to Sam, I'm coming for you. I...want to see this life you've made for yourself."

Nodding, I reach up and drop a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek, "Take care of yourself, Dean. No more making deals with demons."

Earning a curt nod and a cheeky grin, I step back and slip into the Mustang. Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I feel the purr of the engine roar to life before speeding toward the road, leaving behind my twin.

_**'Love you, Nat.'**_

_'Back at ya, bro.'_

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone that reviewed! I'm glad you liked the quick prologue. I wanted to give you guys a look into her life growing up. No. The boys do not know Natasha grew up with the Harvelle's. Let me know what you think about this chapter. This story will be canon, but I will be throwing in some changes in future chapters, I don't want people to reread the entire season. This is all from Natasha's perspective, but the perspective will change in future chapters, mostly between the three Winchesters. I will not by typing the season up word-for-word, and at the same time, I will be throwing in moments between episodes because they mention 'weeks' have gone by since the previous episode. This story is about Natasha rebuilding a connection with her siblings, a connection she isn't sure she even wants have the time. Natasha isn't perfect, she has her faults. She really does tend to drift into thought, mostly observant, but she has the Winchester attitude and there will be times where she butts heads with Dean as well.**

**Thanks for reading. Leave reviews!**


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two  
**_Familiar Voices_

* * *

Quietly closing the door to the Mustang, a sense of warmth fills my chest at the sight of the roadside bar I called my own. 'The Hole in the Wall', a way-station for all those introduced into this life, either by way of life or due to being a victim. While taking some pointers from Ellen and what she did with The Roadhouse, I cultivated a broader horde of frequent patrons. Hearing the muted sounds of music playing from inside, the music consisting of a wide variety of Rock music genres, I reach up and carefully tug my hair into a pony-tail. Knowing it is time to face the music, I wonder just how much of a show my customers are going to get this time.

Pushing through the door, I manage to step through the second arch way before ducking underneath the neon-orange foam Nerf dart aimed at my head. Spinning on instinct alone, I mentally count the darts as I weave and duck under each shot. I know they don't hurt, but this has become a customary 'welcome back' if I am ever gone for an extended amount of time. Smiling at the fiery-haired woman currently holding the barrel of an empty Nerf gun to my skull, I offer her a small wink.

"How's it-" Groaning as an orange dart hits my left cheek, I glare at the flicker of amusement through her hazel eyes, "Seriously? Grow up."

"Where's the fun in life if I don't get to shoot people without making a mess?" Kay retorts playfully before pouring three shots. "Hey, Ri, look who finally wandered her ass back to the 'Hole'."

"I'm glad to see you are okay, Tasha," Maria greets as she takes a seat at the empty stool next to me. The ebony-haired woman raises her shot glass, "To questions that seem far too impossible to ask."

Kay snorts as she raises her own shot glass, "To Nerf darts; because shooting annoying Hunters with real darts is messy."

"To me not having to tongue a demon, or anything witchy," I call out, a round of chuckles coming from various patrons within hearing distance.

The three of us knock back our celebratory shots, each of us turning the empty shot glasses upside down before carefully placing them onto the bar table. Maria and Kay both share a glance and I realize they want the whole story. I have no problems being honest with them, since they already know about the handful of 'episodes' I had pertaining to my bond with Dean, but it wouldn't seem right talking about my dead twin coming back to life at the hands of an angel, especially around my patrons.

"Later. After we close up for the night."

Skimming over the patrons, my gaze lands on a familiar man with clean-cut light auburn hair, a black blazer jacket and a pair of casual jeans. Tapping the bar table, I'm again thankful for having a genius as a friend as she hands me two glasses of Rum and Coke before I slip away from the bar. Nodding gingerly to various patrons that greet me with warm, welcoming grins, I weave around the tables before sliding into the booth across from the man. Placing one of the drinks in front of him, I smile as warm soft-brown eyes meet my own.

"Tasha," he greets, a broad grin on his lips.

"Hello, Jerome. I hope you were not waiting on me. I'm afraid I've been MIA for a while now," I respond kindly.

"No. Just arrived an hour ago. The girls said you were out for a month. I trust, everything is okay?"

It's impossible not to wonder about Jerome at some times. About five years ago, Jerome's wife had been the victim of being one of three blood sacrifices to a coven of witches. Kay and I had been too late to save his wife, but we did manage to rescue his daughter, Tabitha. Jerome struggled at first, and in turn had been Maria's first 'patient' so to speak. He often came through once everyone other week, leaving Tabitha with his sister.

"Oh, I had some family business to take care of," I reply, watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "I had been asked to stay with them, but me and my little brother don't see eye-to-eye on many things. He has this idea that you have to either live a normal, naive life or be a Hunter. Apparently, he is under the impression that I was placed with a foster family for my 'safety' and so I could live a normal life. Doesn't like the fact that I am going against our _father's_ wishes."

"Don't you think your father would be proud of the things you and your friends have accomplished?" Jerome questions, shaking his head, most likely at the thought of leaving his daughter with another family for such a length of time.

Swallowing the sip of Rum and Coke, I snort with bemusement, "Honestly, I could care less about what that asshole thinks. Might be wrong of me to speak ill of the dead, but I don't have too many memories of him, let alone any that are good memories."

"Well, this coming from the father of a talented nine-year-old, I can say you would make any parent proud, given the circumstances."

Dropping my gaze, uncomfortable with such blatant praise, I shrug indifferently before inquiring about Tabitha. Apparently, the nine-year-old managed to nail the lead part in a school play and even showed interest in starting up dancing. Tabitha was a small, wiry girl. She definitely seemed born to be a dancer. I know it may seem weird, but it was after our case with Jerome's family that the girls and I began cooking up the idea of finding a place, setting down some roots. Went against the very nature of the Winchester family, but I take various cases out of state, some cases that keep me occupied for weeks, and there's something comforting about having a place to call home. It was Jerome's family that helped cultivate everything around me, and he has become a welcomed sight every other weekend.

"Your family is okay then?"

I snort, at the change of subject, "They're alive and bitchin' as far as I know. My younger brother is a pain in the ass. Good kid, smart as hell but at the same time dumber than a box of fucking rocks." Jerome snorts with amusement at my words, "What? Sometimes, I wonder if my brothers have a death wish with the way they are so willing to throw their lives around."

"Do you not do the same?"

Shaking my head, I grin, "My younger brother doesn't even know I Hunt. My twin does, didn't like the idea when I first started, but no. Hunting is all they know. It's all they're willing to let themselves know, all because a few horrific tragedies occurred in their lives." I smirk in a self-deprecating manner, "Perhaps, I am just more adjusted."

"Of the many ways I would describe you, adjusted is not one of them."

My head falls back, a bark of laughter leaving my lips as Jerome's words washes over me. Oh yes. This man is something else. Jerome starts to talk about the car show coming up in the next month. Just like every year since we've established the bar as a way-station, my parking lot always appears to be a showroom floor for a classic car lot around this time of year. I don't mind it. Jerome even owns a beautiful candy-apple red Corvette. I may not know the innards of a car like my twin, but I'll be damned if I can't appreciate a beautiful sleek body and high-powered engines.

Immersed in the conversation about who is supposed to be showing up next month, I find thoughts of my brothers fading to the back of my mind.

For now.

* * *

"Wait. Are we talking angel, as in 'white feathered, golden-haloed messenger of God' kind of angel, or are we talking about 'Warrior of Heaven' kind of angel?"

Kay's question causes me to pause, my head tilting slightly as I recall Castiel, "Seems to be more of an obediant soldier type. Why? What's wrong?"

Kay shakes her head, eyebrows crinkled in thought, "Just wanting the facts before I start researching. Heaven's Warriors walking among humans, pulling a soul out of Hell. Not sure what's going on, but it's bound to be big."

Nodding in understanding, I sigh as the three of us enter the two-story house. While most people would see Castiel's actions as a miracle, if there is one thing Winchesters know best, is that nobody does something on that grand of scale just out of the kindness of their hearts. And from what I can tell, angel's don't even think on that scale. Bidding the girls a good night, I quickly strip out of my clothes, pulling on a pair of baggy sweat pants and a Ramones t-shirt before crawling into bed. Sighing as my head hits the pillow, I hope now I can catch up on some much needed sleep.

* * *

_The beautiful rolling hills basking in the glow of the setting sun usually brings me a sense of comfort. If it wasn't for the fact that I can feel the scene around me shudder, I would have remained in my state of comfort. Laying back on the softened grass, I do not bother looking away from the setting sun as my instincts scream that I am not alone._

_"It was you, wasn't it?" I question without looking up at the intruder, "The voice in my dreams, speaking in a language I have never heard before."_

_"You could hear my voice?"_

_Glancing up at the angel, his stance towering and powerful even in my dreamworld, I nod, "Yeah. Hard to imagine an angel just randomly walks into my dreamless subconscious a few days before Dean pops back top-side."_

_"It...was not intentional," the raspy voice admits, "I was mending Dean's body and soul when I came across a bond he shared with you. I admit...I was curious. Why would Dean Winchester carry such a profound bond with a seemingly random person? I followed the bond and happened to come upon your...mind. It appears that the empty darkness from before was not normal."_

_I cock an eyebrow despite the situation. Seriously? Did this angel realize what he just asked? A random person? And here, I thought I had heard it all._

_"Don't tell me that not only was I a surprise to my parents, but now I don't even exist in Heaven either?" The angel tilts his head in a manner that I find rather adorable, "Perhaps, Dean and I share a bond because we are twins."_

_His stoic expression shatters for a brief moment as shock and surprise registers in his impossibly-dark blue eyes, "There has never been word of a third offspring to John and Mary Winchester."_

_"Great, and if you don't mind, let's just keep that piece of information between us," His eyebrows knit together curiously, "Don't get me wrong, I am thankful you saved Dean, but I'm not gonna jump on the miracle band-wagon and rejoice in the name of the Holy Father, or his Celestial creations."_

_"You...do not believe in God?"_

_I shrug indifferently, "If God created each of us for a purpose, then the life I live is the one he meant me to have, right?" His eyes blink in surprise at my words, "I don't run on blind faith and I sure as hell don't let it restrict how I live. Really, the only faith a person can have these days, is the faith in themselves and that what they do matters."_

_"You have no faith? Yet, your voice is the one I heard a month ago."_

_Snorting, I glance back at the sunset, "I sure as hell didn't have the power to yank Dean from the Pit, or save him the suffering I know he felt. I figured, if God, or anyone really ever listens, then maybe an act of hope, in place of faith, would work best in my case."_

_"You humans are...strange. If you do not carry faith in Heaven, or trust angels, then why would you trust me with the secret of your existence?"_

_Wondering how to answer the question, I realize I am not entire sure why I am willing to trust this angel. Maybe, it has to do with him being the one to save Dean. Although, I'd like to think I'm a decent judge of character. This...creature, or Heavenly being, just 'feels' different._

_Deciding on going to best route, I flash the angel a half-smile before responding, "Why not you?"_

* * *

It wasn't that difficult to fall back into the daily routine. While most people would find the monotony of a normal life boring; mine consisting of waking up after four hours of sleep, going for a jog around the property of the house, and by nightfall working the bar before returning home after a long night of mild-drunken patrons and mixing drinks. I happen to enjoy it. It makes life seem a bit more... consistent I suppose.

Though it doesn't change what I really am. It doesn't take away my instincts, especially as I straighten up from wiping down one of the tables at a booth, the hairs along the back of my neck standing on end as a shiver rolls down my spine. Knowing that Kay is downstairs tinkering away as she has been for the past hour and Maria is behind the bar, restocking for tomorrow, I glance around for anything out of the ordinary. Hearing Def Leppard's 'Two Steps Behind' fall silent, well before the final verse and chorus, I realize something is very wrong here.

"Maria!" The woman pops her head up from its place, previous hidden behind the bar, "Salt a circle around the bar! Now!"

Maria seems to understand as she grabs the salt canister from its place under the bar. Turning to one of the wooden six-inch thick block post at the entrance's arch way, I carefully run my fingers along the wood, locating the latch to the door of the secret cache. Removing the iron fire poker, I turn just as a shout sounds across the bar.

Instinctively bringing my arm through a swing, I watch as a vaguely familiar phantom dissipates as the iron poker slashes through its transparent body. Strange. I don't recall this place being haunted. As another apparition appears, different than the first, I realize this isn't a normal haunting as I swing the rod through the ghost. Noticing Maria remaining ducked behind the bar, a circle of salt surrounding the bar, I relax, knowing she is safe as I start to move toward the safety zone she had set up.

"Hello, Natasha."

A shiver runs along my spine at the hollow, familiar voice, the taunting tone causing me to turn and face the familiar phantom, "Parker."

"Oh? So you didn't forget my face?" The creepy grin that stretches across his face causes me to shudder, instinctively taking a step back, "No need to worry. I'm just here to pay my dues, so to speak."

Before I can muse over his words, I find my body thrown across the room, skidding along the polished, wood floors before slamming into the wall. Groaning at the swirling chaos in my head, I listen as Parker coos tauntingly to the figure huddled behind the bar. Struggling to my feet, the six-year-old anger floods me as memories fill my head.

"Leave her alone," I spit out viciously, watching the phantom turn its darkened, hollowed gaze on me, "Last I checked, I was the one to do it."

The cold gleam of remembrance flashes in the eyes of the dead man, "Oh, I remember. Not sure why I needed a tracheotomy. I don't recall ever smoking in my life time."

"You deserved a lot worse than that."

The flash of anger appears on his face and before I can register, Parker's apparition appears in front of me, cold, translucent fingers curling around my throat. Groaning as my feet leave the floor, my body dragged up the wall, I am thankful when a resounding crack of a shot gun letting loose a bullet. Seeing the apparition disappear instantly, I drop to my feet, leaning against the wall for support as Kay lowers the gun.

"Man, did I always want to do that," Kay murmurs.

Kay's body is thrown across the room by an unseen force and I dash toward Parker as he reappears. Leaning down to swipe the iron rod from the floor, I swipe at his body, only to feel the utter drop in temperature against my back. A burning sensation floods through me as something invades my body along my spine, cold digits curling around my heart.

Then suddenly, it's gone.

Hitting the floor, I groan as a sense of vertigo hits me hard, my stomach churning as my vision dances with the shadows speckled along the edges. Closing my eyes, my mind welcomes the comforting darkness of the subconscious.

* * *

**Dean**

"I still don't see why this trip is necessary," I fight the urge to tell him to shut up as Sam breaks the silence of the car, "The Witnesses only went after Hunters. Natasha lives a normal life." Fighting the urge to snort, I realize a sense of awareness fills the air, "She _does_ live a normal life, right?"

Glancing over at Sam, I wonder if I should stay quiet, but seeing the accusing gleam, I let out a small sigh, "Nat hasn't lived a normal life since she was sixteen. Started taking on small Hunts after she graduated high school. Not sure if she's done anything big like us, but she doesn't exactly live a normal life."

"What?!" Sam bursts out, "Dad sent her away to live a normal life! Why would she do this?"

"Sam," I pause, unsure how to explain the truth, "Dad didn't exactly send Nat away for her own benefit," Sam's anger stills and I turn my attention back to the road, "You were too young to remember, but Nat is the spitting image of Mom. The older she got, the harder it became for Dad to actually look at her. It started getting worse when she started talking and gained an attitude."

"You mean to tell me, this whole time I thought Dad sent her away for her own good, he really just abandoned her?" A twinge of guilt fills Sam's voice and I nod slowly. "Is that why you asked her to come with us?"

"Part of it," My jaw twitches as I glance over at him briefly before looking back at the road, "I...just miss our sister, Sam. I remember the day Dad came back to the motel room, seeing him without my twin, I felt like he had torn out a part of me that I'd never see again."

Following the directions Bobby gave me, I pull into the parking lot of a roadside bar, 'Hole in the Wall' illuminated in sketchy neon letters. Most places like this gives off a feeling of warning, or seem to harbor a major 'creep' factor. This odd, off-the-beaten-path bar seems relatively new, the music muted from inside mixing with muffled laughter and cheers making it feel more approachable. Climbing out of the Impala, Sam and I head into the bar.

Upon entering, Sam and I both pause, our gazes moving over the room, searching for the familiar blonde head belonging to our sister. Not really seeing her, I spot a gorgeous ebony-haired woman working the bar, a shy smile tugging across her lips as she nods to the two men sitting at the bar. Nudging Sam, I lead the way to the bar, pausing briefly as I catch the tail-end of the conversation.

"-prised at how you fared against your first Skinwalker, especially one parading around like you."

The ebony-haired woman snickers, "Yeah, well, I'm still trying to figure out if it's considered homicide or suicide if you shoot yourself."

The two men across from the bartender let out barks of laughter, both of them raising their glasses in a silent salute. Tapping the bar gently, I manage to catch her gaze and swallow at the dark ocean-blue eyes that greet me, a bright smile stretching across her lips.

"Can I help you?" she asks, a curious crinkle appearing between her eyebrows as her head tilts, as if trying to remember something that has escaped her.

"We're looking for Natasha," Sam states.

The woman's eyes brighten, her smile softening, "Oh. Tasha is over at her usual booth," I follow the direction she points in, my gaze landing on my twin currently sitting across from a fiery-haired woman, the two scribbling into notebooks, and what looks like one of those tablets that just came out (Sammy's been giving puppy-eyes at a few). "Are you in need of consulting?"

Quirking an eyebrow at her question, I shake my head, "No. We just need to talk to Nat."

The brightness of her gaze dims briefly, a gleam of recognition appearing in her eyes, "You're Dean?" I swallow at the widening of her eyes, "I should have known. Not many people have eyes like Tasha." Sam and I share a quick glance, "Oh, I'm her friend, Maria Sanchez. I suggest you tred carefully. Those girls have been hitting the research pretty hard recently."

Nodding, I offer her a thankful smile before following Sam around the tables. Sam opens his mouth to make our appearance known, when his head knocks back, an orange Nerf dart sticking to his forehead, the fiery-haired woman never glancing away from her scribbling as the Nerf gun drops its aim. Biting on the inside of my cheek as Sam slowly blinks before removing the dart, I shake my head as the same woman speaks.

"Pretty sure we warned everyone to not bother us, or they'd end up with a dart in their head."

"We actually just arrived," I state, watching as my twin's head snaps up from her work, eyes blinking in surprise, "Told you I'd be by."

"Sorry. We've been going through a lot of information lately," The slightly haunted gleam in her eyes is unsettling.

"So, you did get paid a visit by spirits the other night?" Sam questions, causing Nat to nod, her eyes gleaming with surprise, most likely due to the fact that Sam is here. "You guys are okay though?"

"More or less," the fiery-haired woman states, "Always wanted to shoot that bastard in the face anyway." Nat's eyebrow twitches, indicating an inner monologue.

_'You okay?'_

_**'Honestly? I've been better. It's kinda hard seeing the ghost of a person you put there.'**_

_'Who was it?'_

_**'Maria's ex-boyfriend, Parker. He had been possessed. It's why the girls are with me now.'**_

_'He died from his injuries then?'_

_**'No.'**_

Feeling the lid slam shut, I wince internally as I watch her eyes shudder with memories. I don't know why she's upset. If her hand was forced to kill her friend's ex-boyfriend, it happens all the time. We can't save everybody.

"I need a drink," Nat announces before standing up.

Knowing my twin most likely needs space, I hear Sam ask the fiery-haired woman (Kay most likely) what's bothering our sister, earning a tired sigh from the woman, "We were paid a visit by spirits of those we...couldn't save. We know this thing kind of happens, but Tasha's never been able to let go of Parker's death."

"Why?" I ask.

Kay sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Parker was possessed by a demon that went after naive college girls. Neither of us knew what was going on when Parker started...uh...attacking Maria," My fingers clench into fists, realizing the insinuation behind her words, "Tasha arrived on the scene, spouted off some serious Latin shit I've never heard before that time, and this black smoke bled from his mouth." Kay's fingers clench reflexively as she pauses, "Parker didn't stop what he was doing, even after the demon was gone. Tasha reacted on instinct and stabbed him through the back of his neck while he was still...on her," I close my eyes, slowly realizing what had occurred "Maria was catatonic the month following, I hated that there was something out there that I had no clue about and Tasha struggled with what she did until she decided to leave. We packed up and practically forced ourselves on her. Been together ever since."

Nat wasn't upset about losing someone. She was upset she killed a human, though the bastard deserved it, it's obvious Nat's still bothered by having to take a human's life.

"So, tell me, have you guys managed to come to the same conclusion that we have about the Apocalypse hanging over our heads?" Sam and I both still, wondering how the hell she knows about that, "I'm a genius. Didn't take that much to cross wires and figure it out."

"Really? How?" Sam asks, both of us knowing they didn't have an angel telling them.

Kay smirks arrogantly, "Well, the first clue was Tasha telling us about this...Castiel. Figured if they were the 'Warriors of Heaven' type instead of the Hallmark kind, something big was coming our way. Managed to come across an obscure text of Revelations that had the same mark Parker's ghost had."

Shit. Bobby said Nat had a friend that was a certified genius, and I guess it wasn't an exaggeration by any means. She says it as a matter of fact, and it took an angel's confirmation for us to believe it.

"They clued in already?" Nat questions as she slides back into her seat, "If you're gonna stay, mind sitting down. Both of you are freakishly tall enough for me as it is when I'm standing."

The curved horseshoe-shaped booth is easy to slip into, Sam already reading over Kay's notes as the fiery-haired woman falls back into her previous focus. Sam and I, softly as to not gain the attention of the other patrons, begin explaining who Lilith is and what the breaking of the sixty-six seals will mean for us.

Kay snorts, nudging her friend gently, "Did I call Lucifer or what?"

"What do you want? A fucking cookie?"

I snicker at the snarky response as Kay shakes her head, "I'd prefer brownies."

"I don't bake."

"You bake pie," Kay counters.

"That's because it's pie," I find myself saying along with Nat.

Kay snickers, "Oh that was just awesome. Do it again."

"No!" Both of us respond, sharing another sibling glare toward each other, "Stop it." I grow irritated, although amused, as I bite the inside of my cheek, "You started it."

Kay and Sam laugh at our expense, causing us to both glare at them, "You guys are dicks."

"Okay, you can stop now."

"Good," We echo.

Kay's hands move to her stomach, "No, seriously. Stop. I can't handle it."

"Sucks to be you," We respond, amusement flickering through our bond, and I realize the sentiment is shared.

The moment is broken when a man's voice breaks through the conversation, "Hello, Tasha."

All four of us glance up to see the auburn-haired man standing at the table, my sister responding, "Jerome! Is everything okay?"

"My wife..."

Nat's eyebrows narrow, "Jerome. Were you paid a visit?" The man nods reluctantly, "Since when did you Hunt?"

"Since that day, five years ago," the man admits.

Nat and Kay both sigh, shaking their heads before my sister asks, "Are you and Tabby-Cat alright?"

"Tabby was at a sleepover. I...I was hoping I could speak to Maria."

Nat instantly moves to her feet, nodding her head, "Go to her, let her know I'm finishing up and I'll be right over." As the man walks off toward the bar, Nat glances over at her fiery-haired friend, "Looks like my break is over. We'll go over this further after we close tonight."

Watching Nat saunter off toward the bar, I wonder why the man, who is obviously familiar with the girls, Nat especially, wants to talk to Maria of all people.

"Maria acts as our doctor-slash-therapist," Kay remarks without looking up from her work, "Victims that find it difficult returning to their previous way of life often seek her out, as she sympathizes through experience."

Nodding silently, I wonder exactly that is going on here.

* * *

**Sam**

I may have misjudged my sister. After speaking with many of the regular customers to the bar, I listen as they each speak of the female trio as their saviors. The sense of respect and appreciation in their tones is comforting, but hearing that these girls go beyond just 'saving the day' and help the after affects is impressive.

And humbling as well.

Dean and I never do that. We hit the case, take care of the situation and book out of town. Not a single person here has been left having to piece back their lives. Sitting at the end of the bar, Dean walking around talking aimlessly to other patrons, a gleam of pride in his disposition at what Nat had started, I take a sip from the glass.

"You are Tasha's younger brother?" Seeing the man, Jerome, from earlier, I nod my head briefly as the man sits down at the stool beside me, "That sister of yours saved my daughters life. I'm not sure if you can understand, but you might want to stop reminding her why she never bothered seeking you out in the first place."

I blink, eyebrows knitting together in thought, "What do you mean?"

"Tasha lives and breathes what she does. She takes pride in the fact that she helps people, in more ways than she can imagine. There is a darkness about her though, a pain she bears. Outside of intimacy for the sake of release," I flinch at the insinuation, "she never touches people, not even the girls and they've been friends for a very long time. From what I understand, not that she'd ever admit it, but she grew up around you boys, watching praise being given and gestures that families often give each other, but rarely did she receive any of her own." My eyes widen, my mind wishing that the possibility of complete neglect isn't true, "My wife used to work as a social worker. She witnessed many cases where kids, who never experienced familial touch or any kind of gestures, grow up to become...well...unsure, despondent at best, even unresponsive to them."

"I...didn't know."

Jerome nods in understanding, "I am aware you were too young to remember, but understand, that despite the neglect, your sister carries more compassion than anyone I've ever met. Do not remind her why she always hesitated in locating you boys."

Realizing that Dean didn't tell me how bad it really had been, I nod my head, offering the man a small smile, "I won't hurt her."

"We always hurt the one's we love, whether we want to or not. Just...try to find some form of understanding, or you will just push her away for good."

Watching the man walk away, I wonder if I can help fix what Dad did to Nat.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Thanks for your reviews! I am trying to make Natasha...believable. I personally loved John Winchester, I mean, he helped bring us the boys, right? Though, you must understand, after losing his wife and watching his only daughter grow to be more and more like her, he...couldn't really bring himself to connect with her. Some parents do that after a tragedy, and it's horrible, but it makes more sense.**

**To my Reviewers:**

**kdarnell2: Thank you. I'm glad you like the story so much.**

**nlrlcsw: Thanks to you as well. I hope this chapter does justice.**

**Pein's Kid: Ahhh...one of my regulars! lol**

**Winter: It's cool, we all get lazy at some point. Glad you like it so much. I expect more reviews from you.**

**TheAngelGirl357: Oh My Cas! (Sorry, I still find the idea of Cas being God humorous) You are welcome for the 'awesome story' and thanks for being the first reviewer!**

**Read! Review! **


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three  
**_Just For Now_

* * *

_"So, I'm not the type to usually assume things, but seeing as though I haven't had any visits from your kind, I'd say you didn't speak of my existence."_

_The words leave my lips as if feel the familiar shudder form along the lines of my subconscious, a fraction of ripples tugging at the image of my dreamscape. Looking up from the glass of whiskey, the emptiness of the 'Hole' something that never occurs in reality, and I watch as the blue-eyed angel stiffly takes a seat in a bar chair (one chair left between us). He doesn't look at me, instead seems to be interested in the half-full glass of whiskey appearing before him. Hey. I may be in my dreams, but even here I don't like drinking alone._

_"I had believed you wanted your existence to remain a secret from Heaven," Castiel's gruff voice breaks the silence._

_Damn. Who knew angels could have such sexy voices? Seriously. I'd say it's not humanly possible to have such a natural, post-coitus voice, but the creature sitting at my right is anything but human._

_I snort at my inner thoughts, which seems to work in favor as a response to his words as I shrug a shoulder, "I just wasn't aware angels could keep secrets. Isn't lying considered a sin, or something?"_

_"We are able to keep secrets if it is a situation that calls for it."_

_Quirking an eyebrow, I shake my head, "And the fact that I'm the Winchester Family's Best Kept Secret is something that calls for it?"_

_"There are only few beings in existence that could block a human's soul from Heaven's radar. If you have been hidden from us this entire time, then it must be for a reason we have not yet figured out."_

_Flashing the angel a genuine smile, I bow my head for a brief moment, "Not quite sure what I did to earn your confidence, but...thanks," Glancing up, I notice the curiosity flicker through his gaze, and I mildly wonder what it will take to break the stoic expression on his face, "So, the Apocalypse it is then?" Earning yet another curt nod, I raise the glass before me in a salute, "Well, here it goes to fucking up someone's day."_

_Though his face remains as expressionless as a robot, I manage to catch sight of the mild amusement appearing in those impossibly-dark blue eyes. Oh yeah. I'll get him to crack some kind of expression at some point._

* * *

"You do know those are bad for your health, right?"

Glancing away from the early morning sky, I snort at the sight of my younger brother standing just a few feet behind me, his own gaze sweeping over the rolling hills making up the back of my home's property. Seriously? If he's going to lecture me on the vices I manage to keep, I may just deck him in the face for the hell of it.

"Yes, because of _all_ the things I could possibly die from, smoking an occasional cigarette is what's gonna put me six-feet under," I snark before taking a drag from the half-spent cigarette, all for emphasis of course. Running a weary hand through my bangs, I turn my sights back on the rising sun, "If you are going to throw another lecture at me, I suggest you cram it up your ass and walk in the other direction, because I really, _really_ don't want to hear it."

"N-no, I wasn't trying to-" A sigh breaks through his words and I envision him running a hand through his own hair, "Look, can I just...join you?" Shrugging a shoulder, I quickly catch a glimpse of him moving to sit to my left, "I...wanted to apolo-"

"Don't," I cut him off curtly, pausing to take another drag from the cigarette, my gaze sweeping over him, "You meant exactly what you said at the time. The fact that you know the truth now doesn't change the meaning you carried in your words. Just...chalk it up to you being a huge asshat and move on."

Sam blinks in surprise before smiling slightly, a nervous tick appearing as he scratches the side of his neck absentmindedly, "That man from last night, Jerome," Nodding to show I am following, he continues, "He spoke very highly of you. I...guess I never really figured a person could be a Hunter and still live an apple-pie life."

Bobby wasn't kidding. My brothers are idiots. Loyal, brave, determined, but they are a Grade-A, High-Class brand of stupid. I knew this would come up; after seeing Dean's wide eyes take in the sight of the two-story house, and every single one of the customers from the bar spouting off nothing but praises. I know what it looks like. That I live two lives, the life of a Hunter, and then a normal life.

"You and Dean need to wake up," I say, earning a cocked eyebrow in return, "I don't live the life of a Hunter _and_ an apple-pie life. Hunting _is_ my apple-pie life."

"W-what? That's...insane!"

Snickering at Sam's response, I bob my head in agreement, "Totally insane. Completely off the fucking rocker, insane. Look, I'm only gonna say this once, so..." Inhaling deeply, I stub out the spent cigarette and turn back to the rising sun, "After the Parker incident, I hit rock bottom, or at least what _I_ called rock bottom. The deceit and the lying, and raping and murdering and everything cold-hearted you can think of is something I always associated with demons, or witches and everything in between. I...I never really realized humans had the capacity to be that awful. When the girls and I skipped town and hit the road, I questioned why I bothered Hunting, when humans are just as bad."

"What changed? How did you get from that to...well..._this_?"

From the corner of my eye, I watched Sam's hand motion toward the house behind us, "Five years ago, Jerome's wife and daughter were abducted by a coven of witches, intended for blood sacrifices. We...were too late to save his wife, barely managed to save the kid," I snort, remembering the absolute chaos and gore coating the room, "and I remember what it was like, being four years old and watch as your mother is killed by something less than human," Feeling Sam tense, I let out a small sigh, "So, the girls and I stayed for the following month. Maria helping Tabitha, while Kay and I gave Jerome a crash course in the event that something like that would happen again."

Pausing for a brief moment, a small smile tugs at my lips and I giggle lightly, "Our last night, Jerome and Tabby-Cat practically demanded we stay for one last home-cooked meal. That night had been the moment everything changed for us. After dinner was over, Jerome requested that I take the honor of becoming Tabby-Cat's Godmother," I snort, shaking my head, "I didn't understand why. Maria helped ease their brains back into civilian life, helped them cope. Kay helped take their mind off of what happened, being the crazy person she is. My first instinct was to say no."

"You said yes?"

Smiling once again, my hands move animatedly as I recall the night so long ago, "I don't ever remember anyone looking at me with so much hope, or adoration, as Tabby did. It was that moment, that one expression on her face, that made me wonder if we," I gesture between Sam and myself, motioning nonchalantly to the house where Dean is still sleeping, "had someone, anyone, that could help John cope with what happened to Mom, or just...help us understand, we could have had the childhood we never got. I knew, in that moment, that I stopped a kid from suffering the potential of living the same life I had, and that was the end of it all."

Grinning as I recall coming across the crap-shack that is now the 'Hole', I giggle, "The girls and I bought the property with the bar on it, used some...emergency cash I had saved up to fix the place up. The first year, the girls and I lived in the rooms above the bar, Maria running the bar, Kay and I taking cases. It was busy, and soon, we started putting word out, extending a helping hand to those we saved and even other Hunters. We heal their wounds, educate their minds and help them overcome their nightmares." Turning my gaze back to Sam, I watch his eyes widen briefly, his expression frozen in shock, "So...yeah. Hunting _became_ my happy, normal life, and...I wouldn't change it."

"What about those you care for? Aren't you worried they'll get hurt?" Sam asks.

I let out a bark of laughter, "Are you kidding? Every single person I know is wrapped up in this life some how. _Of course_ I worry they'll get hurt, but...that's why we educate them, teach them what they need to know, show them how to survive. That way, if they die, at least we know that they died fighting and we did what we could to help them."

Sam shakes his head, a small smile on his lips, "Maybe stupidity does just run through the Winchester men."

"There's no maybe about it, Sammy," I cackle in response, feeling as though maybe, now, my baby brother understands, "So...something on your mind, Sammy?"

"Just curious," he pauses, eyes slanting as he looks over at me, "Have you ever done _anything_ stupid?"

"Of course I've done something stupid," I admit, snorting, "Maybe not on _your_ grand scale of stupidity, but I have."

"Like what?"

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I grin despite the memory of the horrid situation, "Got caught up in the middle of a demonic turf war," Sam's eyes widen, his mouth opening to question and I shake my head, raising a hand to silence him, "I'd rather not go into details. Let's just say, you _never_ trust the ones that smile."

Seeing Sam's expression become guarded, I hum inwardly to myself. Is Sammy up to no good? They always did say it was the quiet ones you look out for. Grinning at him, I file away the odd shift in his disposition in the back of my mind for a later date, and move to my feet. Stretching my arms over my head, I bob my head in the direction of the house.

"Gotta start breakfast."

Slipping back inside the house, I feel my smile drop. I thought Dean was the basket case. Remembering Sam's anger and quick judgment after Dean popped out of Hell, and the sudden shift from amicable to distant just moments ago isn't right. I've seen it before, but where?

* * *

**Dean**

I pause inside the open archway marking the kitchen, the sight before me causing an odd sensation to stir in my chest. Maybe it's the sight of Maria, long black hair pulled into a lazy pony-tail and dressed in what appears to be lounge wear, sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping slowly at her mug of coffee, dark blue eyes watching the two chattering women with a gleam of affection. Maybe it's the sight of Kay and Nat caught in the middle of a debate (sounds like they're arguing about movies) while simultaneously dancing around each other while they prepare breakfast. I manage a soft smile at the sight of Kay standing at the stove, bacon and sausage frying as she easily whips up the eggs, and Nat, who seems to be busy slicing up random vegetables with calculated precision. Kay and Nat never break in their argument, even as the red-head absentmindedly takes the chopped vegetables while handing off the skillet currently frying up the bacon. Watching as they move with comfortable ease and silent understanding of each other, I can't help but feel a small twinge of jealousy, knowing that if things had gone differently, if I had found Nat sooner, I could very well be standing in Kay's place.

"Mornin', Dean!" Nat greets without looking over her shoulder, "There's a fresh pot of coffee. Sammy said he'd be back down after he finishes washing up."

Running a hand through my hair, rubbing the back of my neck, I bob my head in a muted greeting before taking a seat on the stool next to Maria, who wordlessly slides over an empty mug, "Thanks."

"No problem."

I honestly can't remember the last time Sam and I had a warm, home-cooked breakfast, or meal of any kind. Even as everyone sat at the island, I watched as Kay stole the last half of Nat's muffin, in retaliation for the blonde stealing slices of bacon from her plate. The trio of girls talked about everything, from music, to movies, to upcoming events that will effect the influx of patrons at the bar; but they don't talk shop. Kay mentions a new gadget she's working on, earning a nod from both of the girls, but nothing is said about Hunting, demons, angels, witches or the Apocalypse. All of it seems surreal.

Maria heads out, saying she's got an order coming into the bar and she has to make sure everything is stocked up for the week. Sam gives into his inner-geek and soon Kay is dragging him to her workshop, her words moving hundreds of miles per second. As the front door shuts behind Kay, the red-head yelling out that she'll bring him back in hopefully less than two pieces, I shake my head before turning my attention to Nat. Seeing the blonde start clearing away dishes, I smile inwardly at the domestic action before sliding off of the stool. Stepping up next to her, I nudge her hip (once again reminding me of late night clean-ups after my failed attempts at cooking) as I grab a kitchen towel.

"I want you to come with us," I blurt out, running the towel over the newly-clean and still-wet plate. "To help with the seals." Feeling the tension form along her shoulders, a sudden pause in her motions has my mind scrambling for a better way to get her to come with us. "I know you just got back and you probably don't want to be on the road with a couple of guys, but...I..." I bite the inside of my cheek, hating the fact that this conversation is nearing a 'chick-flick' moment. Sighing, I shake my head, "You don't have to answer now. Just...think about it?"

There! The twitch of her left eyebrow, the only tell I've ever seen on my twin's poker face, when her thoughts are becoming too much for her to handle. The insistent inner monologue of hers. Seeing it brings a smile to my face, realizing that I can still read my sister like a book.

"I will let you know by the end of the night," she murmurs mechanically and I flinch at the sound.

She should be happy, right? She wanted us to be a family again, didn't she? Why do I feel like I'm missing something?

* * *

**Natasha**

"Here!" I call out, tossing the house keys to Dean, who catches them before turning around to face me and the girls, "You guys head back to the house while we close up for the night."

Moments pass us by, the bar dimly lit, signaling the end of the night. Chairs were flipped upside-down and resting on top of the round tables. The floor gleamed from its fresh mopping. Silence falls over the bar and I sigh before turning to face Maria, who already filled three glasses with our preferred beverages.

"Alright, Tasha," Kay calls out, breaking the silence, her voice uncharacteristically softened, "What's got your brain so wired that you've hardly said a word tonight?"

"Dean asked me to go with him and Sam," I state, taking a sip from the glass as I watch both girls tense, "My brain is screaming at me to tell them to go fuck themselves, but...there's this small voice telling me to give it a try."

"Why not go?" Maria asks simply.

I snort, taking the moment of silence to light a cigarette, my nervous tension slowly fading as I take the first drag, "Look, alright, I _miss_ Dean, and Sam I barely got the chance to know. I want, so much, to just hop in the Impala and start this insane quest of theirs, but..." I swallow needlessly, my fingers running through my bangs absentmindedly, "then, I wonder if I should even bother, trying to reconnect? For all I know, they'll just disappear from my life again and...I'm not sure I could handle it a second time around."

"Well, it's simple," Kay's voice starts, and I straighten up in attention (the girl isn't called a genius for nothing, you know). "Go ahead, skip town for a couple weeks. Take a few cases. See if you think it will work. In either case of it working, or not, you better make damn well sure that your ass is back here by the end of the month."

Oh, right. The car show. Thinking over her plan, I muse over the two weeks I would spend with them. Nodding my head in agreement, I offer Kay a small smile, but seeing the serious gleam in her eyes I cock an eyebrow.

My silent question is answered, "Just...do my sanity a favor and keep an eye on your younger brother," My brow crinkles in confusion, but Kay doesn't stop, "I'm not sure what's going on with either of your brothers, but I can tell you, while I was showing Sam the workshop, the kid was tweaking," A familiar gleam forms in her eyes as she pins me with a pointed look, "and I mean he was handsy, irritable, couldn't sit still and he _tweaked_ as though he was trying to crawl out of his skin. Hides it pretty well, but we've all seen the look before."

The hostility. The bouncing from one personality to another. The shiftiness. The...weird sensation around him. Realizing Kay's warning, I bite down on the inside of my cheek, nodding my head, "I will. Hopefully, it won't cause a problem."

"It will," Kay comments, Maria nodding her head in agreement, "I know for a fact, whatever Sam has going on isn't something he's shared with the rest of the class, if you know what I mean."

Dean doesn't know. Either Sam hasn't worked up the courage to tell Dean, or he just hasn't (which often leads to a great possibility of him never telling). Sighing outwardly, I raise my glass in a silent salute, managing a half-attempted grin as I toast, "To fucking up someone's world!"

Kay manages a snicker, Maria shaking her head and a smirk twitches along my lips before the three of us drain the last of our drinks. Maybe (or most likely) Kay is right. Maybe a few cases and spending a couple weeks with my estranged family would be best. Maybe...maybe I they won't walk away this time. Maybe, just for now, I can believe nothing bad will come of this.

Just for now, at least.

* * *

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" I quip gently, watching as my twin slowly brings his gaze up from the glass of whiskey in his hand. Cocking my head to the side, I offer him a half-smile as I cross over the kitchen and lean against the breakfast bar, grabbing one of the glasses from underneath the bar. Pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I take a quick sip, "When are you and Sam planning on heading out?"

"Sometime this afternoon. Bobby called last night, said there's a salt n' burn case down in Indiana," Dean replies and I bite down on the inside of my cheek at the sight of the haunted green eyes.

"Ugh," I moan out with exaggerated expression, "I hate packing for trips. I never know what I should bring."

Watching as his expression slowly morphs from confusion and into surprise before his features bleed into a brilliant expression, a warmth flood through my chest as the familiar, bright and infectious grin, "You mean, you're comin' with us?"

Reaching over, I knock my knuckles against his shoulder, "Dude, you look like a kid that hit the gold mine while Trick r' Treating."

A snort of amusement is my response, an elbow nudging the meat of my upper arm, "Shuddup."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, broski," I quip, swallowing a mouthful of true American whiskey (although, I'm more of a fan of the Irish brews and liquors), "I have to be back at the 'Hole' by the end of the month. Figured the two weeks spent could act as a...trial run of sorts." Peering over at my twin, I spy the frown threatening to take place of his grin and offer him a small shrug, "Hey. I've spent the last plus-six years Hunting with Kay, and Maria on occasion. We each know how the others move, how they react and nine-times-out-of-ten we don't need to use words in order to communicate. I have a small idea on how you Hunt, nothing on Sam, so...it won't be easy trying to Hunt with someone new, even family as it were. I want to make sure, if this becomes permanent that it is a move I am comfortable making."

"I get it," Dean murmurs, bobbing his head briefly, "I do. You...have made an impressive life for yourself here. I guess, I thought, it would be nice for us to...fix things. Reconnect."

Draining the last of the contents, I wink in his direction, "It's worth a shot. I'm gonna go upstairs and pack, make sure I have all the niceties."

* * *

By mid-morning, two of my bags are packed in Dean's trunk and I find myself tense, trapped in the over-zealous embrace of the compassionate, emotional Maria. Spying Kay trying to smother her amusement by biting on the knuckle of her index finger (which causes me to muse if she'd prefer eating my fist at this moment), I bite down on the inside of my cheek as my hand awkwardly pats the top of her head. Gently pushing Maria back and out of my personal space, I offer her a lopsided grin, thankful when Kay simply threatens all forms of bodily harm if I'm not back by the end of the month.

"Yeah, yeah, darts to the forehead, possible upgrade to paintball guns," I wave off dismissively, "Like you guys could even carry through the festivities without me?" Kay snorts, even as Maria nods in reluctant agreement with my words, "I'll keep in touch, throw you a text every so often."

"Just...no free-for-all competitions," Kay comments, nudging my shoulder with a fist, "These boys couldn't handle it."

Letting out a bark of laughter, I grin at my obnoxious friend, "Bitch, I still retain that title."

"Oh just wait. We'll square off again and I'll pwn your ass like I'm Keith Richards at a crack convention."

Hearing a snort of amusement from my twin, I realize it's time to head out, "First of all, you couldn't touch Keith Richard's level. Second, I'll believe it when I see it. Third," I nudge Sam, gaining his attention, "I call Chewie!"

"Chewie?" Both of my brothers chorus, Dean more out of amusement.

Kay and Maria both snicker, the red-head answering, "Yeah, think of the Impala as your _Millenium Falcon_ and you as Han Solo..." Dean smirks as Sam shakes his head, eyes rolling in exasperation, "Chewie always rides shotgun."

Climbing into the Impala, I swallow back the lump in my throat, memories of the last time I was really _in_ this car threatening to spill over. Waving at Maria and giving Kay a rude, one-fingered salute (earning a cackle of laughter), I lean back in the seat as the engine roars to life. Closing my eyes, I try to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest as I leave my home and family behind.

For now.

* * *

**Sam**

"Ugh! Seriously, Dean? Cassette tapes? Ever hear of an IPod jack?" I can't help but snicker as Nat grimaces at the sight of the box of cassette tapes, her fingers running along the sides, reading each one.

"Hey! Driver picks the music, passenger shuts their pie hole," Dean quips, glancing at Nat from the side of his eyes before turning them back to the road.

"Oh, fuck you, dude! You're just lucky you have some decent shit- Oh Hell yes!" Nat cheers as she takes a cassette tape from its protective plastic case and pops it into the stereo.

Groaning at the grin that stretches across Dean's lips as the opening chords to a familiar song, I realize the two are more similar than I first thought. Nat wastes no time in turning up the volume, her blonde curls bouncing as her lips stretch into the same infectious grin.

_"Out in the street it's 6 am, another sleepless night_  
_Three cups of coffee, but I can't clear my head from what went down last night_  
_No we won't have our own little ways, but somehow we keep it together_  
_You hear me talk, but you don't hear what I say, I guess it don't even matter"_

At least she doesn't force herself to sing off-key, but from my spot in the back seat, as she nudges Dean, who grins broadly as he joins her in the chorus.

_"Blue morning, blue day, won't you see things my way?_  
_Blue morning, can't you see what your love has done to me?"_

_"I've always listened to your point of view, my ways are cut through men_  
_And I've always been a patient man, but my patience has reached its end_  
_You tell me you're leaving, you tell me goodbye_  
_You say you might send a letter_  
_Well honey don't telephone, cause I won't be alone_  
_I need someone to make me feel better."_

I grunt as an open-palm smacks against my chest, Nat glaring pointedly in an attempt to get me to join in the singing. Sighing as I realize she's just as persistent as Dean and find myself joining in.

_"Blue morning, blue day, won't you see things my way?_  
_Blue morning, can't you see what your love has done to me?_

_Blue morning, blue day, won't you see things my way?  
Blue morning, can't you see what your love has done to me?_

Blue morning, blue morning  
Blue morning, blue morning  
Blue morning, blue morning  
Blue, blue, blue day, yeah"

At the sight of Dean's grinning and Nat's brightened expression, I feel the familiar desires fade in the back of my mind. I can see to Ruby after this case. I can see to Ruby, but not now. I don't have the heart to ruin this moment, the haunted look fading from Dean's eyes as he glances over at his twin. Everything outside of the car, the world surrounding us and the pending destruction of the world all seems to fade as the very air around me tastes sweeter than it has in a long time.

Yeah. Maybe, just for now, I'll take what's in front of me.

* * *

**Alright! That's the chapter for you awesome readers and reviewers. I've been contemplating on if I want to steer off from the canon, keeping key moments, or mixing it up a bit. I want to hear from you readers: do you want this story to follow the series? Or would you prefer twists and turns while still maintaining the over-all plot from the show?**

**To my reviewers:**

**Skylight12: Yeah...the idea kinda just...popped in my head. Like...how would it change the show if Dean actually carried a special bond (not 'profound') with someone that could literally understand him, knew him inside and out. Could he have handled the angels, Alistair, the Apocalypse, the Horsemen and all in between? During seasons 4&5, Sam was kind of erratic, in-and-out of the picture in his mind, so I wondered what would happen if he had someone he _could_ rely on. I'm not saying it's going to be an easy road, he's still going to suffer and all the angst will be there, but I'm kind of curious how this is going to turn out myself. Thanks for the review.**

**TheAngelGirl357: Thank you. Yes, I don't want to make Sam look like the bad guy, but he will always, in some moments, remind Natasha of John. I'm trying to get the point across of Sam's 'addiction' and Natasha being slightly aware of the situation, but not fully understanding of it. There will be moments where Nat and Sam fight, but then there will be moments where they bond as well, because she doesn't share the connection with him that she does Dean. **

**Winter(I don't feel like typing out your whole name) (Now that just seems oxymoronic now that I think of it): Yes! Nerf guns. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Believe me, there will be more Kay/Tasha battle-of-the-wills moments (they love picking on each other).**

**Read! Review!**


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**_**  
**__Troubled Water_

* * *

I run. I run as fast and as swift as my feet can carry me. I may not have the tall stature of my brothers (one of their steps is about equal to three of mine), but my body does not carry the weight of muscles as their own. My body, naturally built for speed and endurance, pushes past the limitations of my brothers. I can hear them yelling; both verbally and Dean's insistent yells in my head, for me to wait, or slow down.

But I can't.

Bursting through the heavy doors leading to the gym, my boot-clad feet skid along the waxed floor of the basketball court as I aim for the doors leading to the Olympic-sized pool. The heavy footsteps behind me stumble and a sickening crack causes me to peer over my shoulder. Seeing the robust woman standing between me and my brothers, both of them pinned to the wall, the witch's arm outstretched toward them. Quickly patting at the pockets along the thighs of my pants, I remove a silver throwing knife from my pocket and with deadly, and well practiced, precision, I pull my arm back before snapping it forward. Seeing the blade pierce through the back of her shoulder, the pain causing her hold on my brothers to falter and release.

_'I'm going on ahead.'_

Ignoring Dean's mental yell for me to stay put, I continue on my course of action. Slamming my shoulder against the door leading to the pool, I stumble briefly as I come to the sight of a hysterical woman screaming for her 'baby'. Shrugging off my jacket, I sprint toward the edge of the pool and dive straight down for the struggling kid fighting off the angry spirit.

Salt n' Burn case my ass.

Managing to locate the pure-iron knife in one of my many pockets (mentally thanking Kay for her habit of improving every piece of equipment, even our clothing, for Hunting), I don't hesitate in stabbing at the spirit. As is disparate I grab onto the weakening child, plant my foot against the bottom of the pool and shove off. Breaking through the surface of the water, I grab onto the edge of the pool, using what strength I have to hoist the kid up and out of the water. As his hysterical mother continues to prattle words of concern and disbelief, I place my ear to the kid's chest, the heartbeat weakening. Turning the kid over on his side, with a gentle (but firm) clap against the kid's back, just behind his lungs, I wince sympathetically as the kid vomits chlorine water onto the moistened path around the pool's edge.

"Andrew! Oh my baby! Oh thank goodness you're alive!" the hysterical woman coos as she pulls her son into her arms.

A smile forms on my lips at the sight of a concerned parent. A smile that fades with shock at the feel of cold fingers wrapping around my ankle. The skin of my fingertips scrap across the floor as I am pulled back into the water, the angry spirit unforgiving as the hysterical mother and her son immediately try to grab onto my arms, pulling at me. I know they are trying to help, but they're hindering any possibility for defensive measures. I bite down on my bottom lip as something along my left leg gives a near-silent pop, the pain instantaneous and heat floods along the injured limb.

"Let go," I choke out to the mother-son duo, watching as protests appear on the faces, "This thing will only pull you in with me. Let go. I can't get to my weapons with you holding my arms."

"You'll die!" the child's voice comes out hoarse from ingesting the chlorine water (and throwing it up), his hazel eyes widen with fear and concern (not used to being on the receiving end of that look).

"At the chance of sounding incredibly lame," I groan as my body jolts toward the water, the two gripping my tight stumbling slightly, "It's either you, or me."

Seeing the stubborn expression on their faces, I sigh and using a move from Basic Hunting Training 101, I twist and pull at their grips. Feeling their grip break, I barely hear the door to the pool slam open as I am viciously yanked into the water, darkness greeting me as the side of my head knocks against the edge of the pool.

**'Nat!'**

* * *

**Dean**

'Nat!'

Ignoring the sobs from the boy currently wrapped in his mother's arms, I dive into the water, every intention filling me to save the sister I just managed to get back. I don't like that she's reckless. I don't like that she jumps head-first into situations without regard for me or Sam. She mentioned the girls are used to her mannerisms, and that they have adapted to work off of each other, cover weaknesses and defenses, while adding their own strength or skill into the fold. Sam seems to be handling the witch responsible for all this pretty well, but seeing the angry spirit holding my twin down to the bottom of the pool, my mind blanks on Sam. Seeing a bronze gleam out of the corner of my eye, I notice the iron knife and muse that maybe she really was prepared for everything. Grabbing it, I plunge the blade into the ghost, quickly finding myself on the receiving end of its unbridled fury.

As the ghost suddenly stills and blinks out of existence, I twist around in the water, only to find Nat's body missing. Pushing off the bottom of the pool, I immediately hoist myself over the edge and freeze at the sight. The familiar Holy Tax Accountant standing over my sister's prone body causes me to tense, even as my body heaves for oxygen.

"Don't-" I choke out as the angel crouches next to her, his fingers pausing just inches from her forehead. At the sight of the blue-eyed angel, the same one responsible for my resurrection, I swallow, "You hurt her, and I'll spend every minute, of every day, hunting you down."

Castiel says nothing, nodding his head curtly before carefully brushes the tips of his fingers along her brow. A tense moment fills the air and for a minute, I forget to breathe. Seeing those green eyes pop open, her body tensing at the sight of someone so close, but she recognizes him.

"Cas?" she chokes out, placing a hesitant hand to his chest and pushing him back, "Personal space."

I don't like the fact that the angel seems to understand her words and moves a step back, but seeing Nat sit upright, I don't hesitate to crawl over and yank my equally-soaked twin in a quick hug, "You ever pull a stunt like that, and Sammy and I will put you on lock-down."

Nat snorts as she shoves me away, both of us standing upright, but her gaze flicks back to the angel, "Thanks, Cas."

"I thought his name is Castiel," I point out.

Nat snickers, "Yes, because I always have a habit of calling people by their names." She offers Castiel a thankful smile, and the angel is once again gone. "You know, I have a feeling I'm not going to want to go swimming anytime soon."

Whatever I am about to say is cut off by a small body slamming into Nat's legs, causing her to teeter for a moment, both of us peering down at the boy. Awkwardly, but not without the natural maternal instinct every woman carries, Nat ruffles the boy's damp hair, "Oi. Careful with the goods kid. Maybe when you're older." The boy ducks his head, blushing as his mother giggles, Natasha taking the jacket from the woman's grasp, "Thanks. Listen, I know it's kind of a long drive from here, but if you, or Drew here, ever need to...talk, or need help understanding," Seeing Nat remove a card from the inside pocket of her jacket, handing it out to the woman, I realize this is what my sister does after every Hunt, "Believe me, I know this is all a bit frightening, especially for Drew here, but we have a therapist well established in our group as well as information you might desire to know in case something like this ever happens again."

The woman takes the card from Nat, eyes blinking before looking over the both of us, "I think we'll be fine."

"You say that now, but Drew is only eight years old. This kind of experience doesn't get forgotten, and if he ever shows signs of being out of character, or doing things out of the ordinary, don't hesitate to bring him by. Maria has handled many cases like his and we'd rather catch the problem now, or he'll end up like him," I glare at her playful jab in my direction, but Nat offers me a small smile, "or worse, me. Just...even if it's a phone call, we will do whatever we can to help you guys settle back into your lives."

"I...I can't thank you enough for saving my son," the woman murmurs, wiping at her cheeks.

It seems as though Nat is just as uncomfortable with emotional displays as I am, the way she shifts slightly before awkwardly patting the woman's shoulder, "Never need thanks for what we do." Nat squats down in front of the boy and offers him a gentle smile, knocking her knuckles against his shoulder lightly, "and you, stay outta trouble. You ever feel the need to talk, don't hesitate."

I nod mutely at the mother-son duo as Nat straightens up, clapping a hand on my shoulder as she says goodbye to the pair. Pushing through the door leading into the main school, I glance over to see Nat carefully rubbing at her leg, her eyes shadowed with thought. Is this how she Hunts with Kay, or Maria? Reckless? Jump head-first into a situation? As we arrive in the parking lot, Sam straightens up from his leaning stance against the side of the Impala.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sam hisses and I groan, realizing that while my siblings my have come to an understanding, they are truly different people. "You don't just run off like that!"

I get the sensation of being at a ping-pong competition, or a tennis game, as my head turns toward Nat as she respond with a lazy, dismissive wave, "You need to simmer down, little bro. I can't help that I'm faster than the both of you, even with your freakishly long limbs."

"It doesn't matter, Natasha," I wince in sync with my twin at the use of her full name, knowing that only one person ever called her by it, "You can't run off without back up. You can't just leave one of us out without help, or jump into a situation with no plan."

Nat shakes her head as she takes a step back, away from the car, her hands shoving into the pockets of her jacket as she stares blankly at our fuming brother, "I figured the two of you were capable of handling the witch. If I had wasted time in helping you two, Drew would have died at the hands of the ghost. So, you'll have to excuse me if I don't see how I didn't know what I was doing."

"So you deliberately left us to deal with the witch?"

"Um...again, there were two of you. What's the matter, Sammy? Can't handle a witch?"

Inwardly groaning as the argument reaches a new level, Sam's hands clenching into fists, "So, what? You think diving in after some kid knowing the ghost is in there is the best way at handling it?"

Nat glares pointedly at him, "Are you suggesting I wait around for you when I could do something about it? Alright, so maybe I was caught off guard for a brief moment after rescuing the kid, but he's safe, you're safe, Dean's safe and I'm just fucking cold and wet," I watch as Sam's tension slowly fades as her words wash over him, but I forgot that Nat is still a Winchester as she continued on, "You may not like how I do things, but thinking quick, on my feet and having faith that my companions know how to do their job is the way I work."

"You couldn't know for sure we could stop the witch," Sam protests, slightly weaker in execution than before.

Nat quirks an eyebrow, "Seasoned Hunters like you know how to handle a witch, especially when there are two of you. I trusted that my brothers could handle a witch of all things."

Clapping my hands together before letting one fall on Nat's shoulder, I break the tension, "Look, Sammy, Nat knew what she was doing and knew she could trust us to handle the situation. Nat, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, lock-down," Both of my siblings nod curtly, the familiar stubborn tick along the jawline marking them as true Winchesters. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but I'm cold, hungry and in need of a beer."

"I'm in!" Nat cheers.

* * *

"Oi, barkeep!" Nat calls out, leaning over the bar table, flashing the male bartender a familiar grin. "Three shots of Jameson, if you'd be so kind."

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. I don't like the way the bartender's gaze sweeps over her denim-clad hips and legs, or the small splash of cleavage as she leans over the bar. I don't like the way the bartender is quick to pour the three shots, quipping about her joining him for dinner. I don't like the leer in his gaze as he takes in her round face and blonde curls.

Oh boy.

"Aw, gee, barkeep," Nat quips, her hand raising, fingers resting against her own cheek in a bashful manner, "It would be my pleasure to join you for dinner, but I'm afraid I can't." My fingers clamp around the edge of the bar as Nat lets out a feminine giggle, "You see, while you seem to be a charming man, I'm afraid I prefer women just as much as you do."

I hear Sam choke on a sudden intake of air and I cough in order to smother my snort of laughter as the barkeep apologizes, offering us the first three rounds on the house. Nat offers him another bashful smile before picking up the shot glasses and leading me, and Sam, to a booth.

"Did you really just hustle us free drinks?" Sam questions as he slides into the booth.

Nat snickers as she carefully places the shot glass in front of Sam, "Hey, I'll take what I can get. Now, I hope you don't mind, but the girls and I have a tradition of toasting our celebratory shots."

"What do we toast to?" Sam asks.

Nat shrugs, snickering, "Anything. Kay once toasted to the stupidity of others, saying that without them, she wouldn't be considered a genius."

Sam nods his head slowly before raising his shot glass, "To stopping Lilith."

I snort, raising my own shot glass, "To surviving the end of the world."

"To dry land!" My sister's cheerful toast washes away the tension as Sam and I both snicker at her expense before the three of us down the shots.

* * *

**Natasha**

"I'm gonna head back to the motel, if that's alright with you guys."

Glancing over at Dean as he pulls the rim of the bottle from his lips, his gaze focused on our younger brother, "Oh c'mon, Sammy. The three of us haven't had a chance to relax and have a few rounds with just us."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm pretty exhausted after being left to deal with the witch," Sam's weary snark causes me to shift slightly, "Sorry, Nat. I'm just tired."

Offering him a small smile, knowing that he is still sour about my methods of Hunting, and I nod to him amicably, "Chill, Jolly Green. I'll make sure Dean gets back to the room in one piece," I remark as I wave a hand to signal the bartender, motioning to my glass and Dean's beer bottle, signaling that we just need two drinks, "You go on ahead and catch some z's."

The thankful and apologetic smile is tiresome on his lips as he nods. Watching as he slips out, leaving the keys behind on the table, I shake my head before downing the remaining contents of my Rum and Coke. Thanking the waitress as she places a freshly opened beer and a new Rum and Coke in front of my twin and I, I snort as she tries to be subtle about slipping Dean my number.

Tries anyway.

"Never fails, the ol' Winchester charm, no?" I tease playfully as I use the thin straw to stir the mixed drink, knowing bartenders often let the alcohol settle on the bottom.

Shrugging with a cheeky grin on his face, Dean throws me a playful wink, "What can I say? I'm adorable."

"Yes. As adorable as a squirrel hording nuts for Winter," I retorts, snickering as I feel fingers flick the side of my head. "Hey, Dean? Is...everything okay with Sammy? He seems unsure of me."

Dean snorts, taking a long pull from his beer before replying, "Sammy has gone through a lot of stuff and he's done some things than make a lot of other Hunters...weary of him. Some think Sammy is no better than the things we Hunt." Blinking, not aware of this secret, I realize that maybe my brothers are hiding something from me. "He-"

I raise my hand, shaking my head, "Nope. I don't want to know." Dean's eyes darken briefly, a protective streak flickering through them at the curt tone of my voice, "People are entitled to their secrets, Dean. I'm practically a stranger to Sammy. I don't expect him to...I don't expect him to trust me just yet. I have my own as well you know."

Dean can tell I am talking about our bond and nods his head, but suddenly his eyes spark with curiosity, head tilting slightly, "What kinda secrets?"

Snorting slightly, I flash him a wink, "Sorry, bro, but you have to ask the right questions to get the right answers," Seeing the frown working its way on his lips, I shake my head, "I promise, it isn't anything to do with you. If you ever ask me a question, you will never have to worry about my response being a lie," His eyes twinkle with an odd gleam, "Not that I _can_ lie to you."

"Wait? You never lie? Not even on cases?"

I snicker, catching my brother's eye, "I never have to. Kay does enough talking for the both of us. Just..." I pause, licking my lips as I swallow another pull from my glass, "Just know that I won't ever deceive you, Dean. Never you."

A small, warm smile pulls on his lips before his foot knocks against my shin, "Enough with the chick-flick moment. So...if you won't ever lie, when did you lose your virginity and to who?" I quirk an eyebrow at the odd question, earning an arrogant shrug in response, "I need to know who it is so I can beat his ass."

"Who says it's a 'he'?" I don't bother holding back the boisterous laugh that escapes me as Dean visibly chokes on his drink, "Oh man! That was awesome. You shoulda seen your face!"

"You didn't answer the question," Dean grumbles, wiping his hand along the front of his shirt.

Smothering my laughter, I tap my finger to my chin before recalling the memory, "Hm...I was seventeen and it was with a guy I used to work with. Good guy. A good friend as it were. We had been friends for a few years and I knew it would be a matter of time before I booked out of town and hit the road," Dean nods in understanding, "I figured instead of never experiencing the intimate moment, or potentially losing it to someone in a drunken daze, I asked him if he'd be willing to do a no-strings attached."

Dean winces, obviously not liking the fact that I either did the deed, or did it with someone without actual emotional attachment to, "Seriously? No strings?"

"Yeah. We remained in a no-strings agreement for about...a month. He ended up meeting this cute girl and fell head over heels. He's married now with a beautiful son," I smile lightly, thinking about my old friend, "Kay always made fun of the fact that I went through the 'experimental'," My fingers tick off air quotes around the word for emphasis, "sex phase in the course of a month."

Dean shudders, shaking his head, "Alright. I don't need details. He...uh...he treated you good though, right?"

Seeing the embarrassment written all over my twin's demeanor, I giggle slightly and bob my head in agreement, "He never did anything I didn't ask for and never pushed for more than I was willing to do." Dean blinks, shifting in his seat slightly in discomfort, "But enough about my past sex life, um..." My teeth tug at my bottom lip, wondering how to approach the topic, "H-how are you doing, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

Seeing the slight evasion, I take a long sip from my glass, "After...you know," I shift my gaze downward briefly, seeing his eyes shudder and close off, "I'm not asking for details, and I'm not pushing for you to talk about anything you don't want to. I just want to know you are..." I run my fingers through my hair tiredly, realizing I am shit at this 'family bonding' thing, "alright."

"That's it?" Dean's voice seems surprised and I bring my gaze back to his, "You don't want to ask what happened? What I remember? Anything?"

Tilting my head, I feel my eyebrows knit together as confusion swirling around in my head, "No. If I wanted details, which I'd rather not know," I already have the memories playing in my head, "I would have asked. I want to know how _you_ are doing."

Silence falls over us. Maybe I overstepped my boundaries? Am I pushing him? I'm sure Sam and Bobby have already asked him enough questions to drive him back into himself. I don't want to hear what happened in Hell. I remember the dreams vividly. I remember the knocking, scratching and thumps against the mental door. I remember the dreams built on revenge and self-doubt and pain. No. I don't want to hear what I already know. Not from his lips. Sam and everyone else might want details, but not me. I...just want him to be...okay.

"I don't remember everything," he admits, causing me to blink, my inner monologue falling silent at the sound of his voice, "I remember pain, heat and anger. I guess, for someone returning from the Pit, I'm...okay. Everyone's asks about it, trying to get me to talk about it, but they don't understand that...anything that happened down there...it is something I can't put into words. No words could even begin to do it justice."

Nodding slowly, I wonder how to cheer my brother up, and motion for him to wait. Approaching the bartender, I lean over and whisper in his ear, shooting him a pleading look. Seeing the warm smile of understanding, I grin before taking the two shot glasses back to the table. Motioning for Dean to stand up from the table, I hand him the shot of whiskey before throwing an arm over his shoulders, forcing myself to the tip of my toes.

"Dean Winchester," I sigh out, holding up my own shot glass in a silent salute, "This...is for you."

Winking at him as we both knock back our shots, I giggle as his eyes widen upon hearing the introduction to Motley Crue's 'Girls, Girls, Girls', "Seriously, Nat?"

"Oh c'mon and sing with me. The barkeep already thinks I'm batting for my own team," I cheer as the first verse starts.

Watching as the despair fades from my brothers moss-green eyes, a sense of accomplishment fills me as a grin breaks across his features. In sync with one another, as we are known to do, Dean and I belt out the lyrics, soon hearing the distant sound of the bartender joining in, as well as a few more patrons. Our lives may throw shit at us, but in this moment, seeing the light gleam in my brother's eyes, breaking through the haunting shadows, I promise myself to get Dean to appreciate the good times we have.

I promise to make sure Dean has more of those.

* * *

**Sam**

Rolling my eyes at the sight of Nat's mess on the table, I sigh realizing my sister is in fact Dean's twin. Tossing away candy wrappers and beer bottles, I turn to the electronics marking her 'command center' as she calls it. Moving to close her laptop, my finger brushing along the cursor pad, I blink at the sudden illumination as the screen shakes off its sleep mode. I don't normally go through people's things, but the sight of an instant message conversation pulled up over the web page of local obituaries needed for the case they closed, my eyes instinctively skim over the conversation.

_RunsWithScissors: What's the poison of choice?_

_**Livin-in-Stereo: 8 Liquid-V. All else is necessary.**_

_RunsWithScissors: I think Mika has enough left over from the last Drop Off. He wants to let you know he's even got somethin to sweeten the pot for ya._

_**Livin-in-Stereo: How could the pot be even sweeter?**_

_RunsWithScissors: He managed to come across some really HTG stuff from one of our contacts. Said he figured you want a first pick at the crop._

_**Livin-in-Stereo: Oooh...you guys always flatter me with your extra goods. Anyway, gotta head out for a job.**_

_RunsWithScissors: Two weeks, then?_

_**Livin-in-Stereo: Count on it!**_

I blink into awareness as the sound of a familiar engine cutting off followed by a slam of the door. Hearing boisterous laughter, I slap the screen of the laptop down and move away from the area just as the door shoves open. Seeing Dean stumble in, his arm thrown over Nat's shoulder and the glazed-over joy in his eyes, I shake my head as Nat giggles, leading him to his bed.

"No. Let go of me," Nat giggles, as she tries to pull Dean's arm off of her shoulder.

Dean mumbles something, words that don't sound like any human language, but Nat's eyes soften. Sighing, Nat kicks off her shoes and shrugs off her jacket before curling up next to her twin. Soft whispers sound from the bed and I swallow the lump in my throat as memories from so long ago flash through my head.

_"I can't keep lying to Sammy, Nat. It's not right."_

_"Then we tell him."_

_Through the crack in the door, I watch as the twins curl up on the couch, the television muted but left on to grant the room a dim light. They always let me take one of the beds, always sharing so I can be comfortable. Dad, always on a job, doing whatever it is he does, always leaves Dean in charge, but when the lights go out and the sun goes down, she's the one forcing Dean into bed for a much-needed rest._

_"I can't. I...I want to protect him from this as long as I can."_

_"Alright, Dean. C'mon. Let's get some sleep."_

Dad never did see the way they carried each other. Dean, the strength, but Nat had always been the heart. Did Dad ever realize just how broken Dean had been? I'll never have as many memories of Nat as he does, but the vague memories of soft, warm eyes and the gentle humming of 'Hey Jude' as I drift to sleep are as tangible as ever as the young woman curling around Dean begins to hum the same tune.

I hope. Whatever Nat is hiding, whatever reason she _really_ needs to be back in two weeks, I hope it isn't what it sounds like.

As the two slumbering twins sink deeper into oblivion, my phone chimes with a text. Seeing Ruby's message, I glance back at my siblings before slipping out of the motel room.

If only to get away from the lost feeling in my chest.

* * *

**Natasha**

_"We have to stop meeting like this, Cas. People are gonna start to talk." I quip playfully as I stare up at the wisps of clouds streaked above, the brightening skies a mixture of pastel shades of pink, purples, orange and blues._

_"You have not told Dean about my visits," Castiel's low, gravelly voice responds, my teasing words falling on deaf ears._

_"At what point does it sound like a good idea to tell Dean an angel keeps visiting me while I'm sleeping. There are several ways that one sentence can be taken and I doubt any of them will bring pleasant thoughts to Dean's head," I state evenly._

_"Dean would rather you tell him, then learn if from another person."_

_The manner of his words causes me to tense, my gaze turning to him as my dreamscape begins to shudder, "You know something?"_

_"Yes, but with all do respect, it is not my place to say."_

_A smile forms on my lips and I nudge the angel, flashing him a wink, "I appreciate the bold honesty, Cas. See you around."_

Waking up to an empty room, knowing that my previously drunk twin had passed out beside me and Sam had still been in the room last time I checked, I snap upright on the bed and glance around. Nothing was packed, so they didn't leave. It's pretty late, about two or three in the morning. Did something happen?

_'Dean? Something wrong?'_

**_'Not now, Nat.'_**

I flinch as the lid on the bond is slammed shut on his side. Watching as the door opens and Sam slips inside, I tilt my head.

"Hey. Any idea where Dean ran off to?"

Sam nods, "Yeah. We got into a fight."

Oh-boy! "What about?"

Sam drops into one of the chairs, shifting slightly before he shrugs, "I don't know. I kind of told him I don't think we should be too quick to trust this angel that yanked him from the Pit. He'll be back in a few hours. Give him some time to blow off some steam, ya know?"

Nodding slowly, I look away from my younger brother, feeling the subtle tick along my jaw as I move to my bags, "Alright. Well, I'm gonna step out for a smoke."

Stepping out of the motel room, I waste no time in lighting the end of the cigarette. Inhaling the nicotine, I turn my gaze to the starry night sky. I don't want to believe it. I don't want to think it's true. Surely...surely my mind is just tired and still intoxicated.

Because there's no way Sam just lied to my face, right?

* * *

**Author's Note: Alright! You guys have been awesome. Let me know what you think. Read! Review!**

**Winter: Aww...here is MOAR!**

**kdarnell2: Thank you for your review. Don't worry. The only POV's that will be used are Dean, Sam and Natasha. While this will slowly building into a Cas/OFC budding romance, this is first a story about building the broken foundations of their family. I am trying _really, really_ hard to keep the thought patterns from sounding the same. Dean and Natasha sometimes sound alike, but with their twin-bond they do have similar view points. Sam, during all season 4 is really...angsty and his view points are slowly being distorted by Ruby, so...he is accepting toward Natasha, but weary of her at the same time, so he tends to act in a different manner toward her.**

**I hope you guys don't hate me for how Sam is acting. I adore Sam, but all of Season Four I really wanted to smack him upside the head. The next chapter will skip over Metamorphosis (I believe the episode is called), because I won't type everything out word for word. Please know that the time between the Ruby-revelation at the beginning of the episode and the Rugaru case (which I believe is in Michigan somewhere) there is a few days between the drive, and a few days of staking-out the man for signs of him changing. Also, I hope you realize this chapter, Nat is sleeping when Cas informs Dean of Sam's 'dark path'.**

**Don't worry. There will be a Sam/Nat bonding moment in the next chapter.**

**Leave a review! **


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**_**  
**__Freaks of Nature_

* * *

The torrent of thoughts, questions and feelings swirling within the core of my very being is overwhelming. I've never dealt with someone lying to my face. Demons, witches and everything in between, yeah, they lie all the time, but my own flesh and blood? Sam doesn't trust me, not enough to entertain the fact that I am not blinded by the false pretenses of others. I don't like the lingering feelings of self-doubt, the permanent ache in my heart that has never truly faded over time; not like people have said it would.

After my attempt to flee the room, hoping that a cigarette would calm my nerves and thoughts, it didn't take long for my right leg to extend forward, my left following, before the pattern becomes repetitious at best. Even as I cross the parking lot of the motel, I find nothing calling me back. Dean is God only knows where and I can't sit in the motel room, suffocating under the false words and unmistakable lies. Even as I take to the sidewalk, wandering aimlessly through the town, my mind tries to fit the pieces together, but perhaps, it's just me. The girls are really the only family I can rely on, as Mama Bear and Jo-Jo are constantly traveling and I'd rather not bother Mama Bear with the nonsense. Dean is trying, but even I can sense that something is threatening the fragile bond between my brothers.

Maybe I'm not cut out for this family thing.

"You should not carry such self-doubt."

I am only thankful for the still slumbering town, the distant sun barely beginning to emerge from its rest beneath the horizon, as I jump at the sudden, familiar gravelly voice. Seeing the familiar Tax Accountant get-up, I swallow the lump in my throat, always having hated being caught off guard, and offer him a half-attempted smile as greeting.

"Aren't you worried of getting caught associating with the nonexistent Winchester?" I quip, trying to keep my voice playful, the heels of my boot-clad feet dragging as I walk lazily around the town.

"If you are nonexistent, than how would one go about associating with you?"

I can't help the cynical chuckle that leaves my lips. The sarcastic words are said with such a matter-of-fact tone that I'm sure he actually _means_ to address the conundrum of his sentence. Great. A sarcastic angel that doesn't realize he's being sarcastic.

"Sometimes, I get the feeling that maybe I'm _supposed_ to be nonexistent," I sigh out, wondering why I am opening up to the not-quite-human leisurely walking next to me. "Father didn't want me. Twin too busy worry over younger sibling. Younger sibling apparently carries a penchant for lying and deceit. The girls would have lived normal lives if I hadn't reacted so brash during the Parker-incident. Honestly, Cas, sometimes there's a point in life where one has to wonder if their life is really of any value."

"I would have never found your brother's soul if it hadn't been for the bond you both share," Castiel's words causes my shoulders to tighten, my eyes flicking over to him, "Even in the state of mind he was pulled into, his soul was unchanged, untouched by Hell's influence. It is why I was intrigued by the bond."

"Do you mind if we don't talk about Dean's experience in Hell?" I question curtly, running a hand through my bangs, "I have enough nightmares of it to last me a lifetime."

"Nightmares?" I swallow thickly, realizing my slip up, "I believed the bond you two share had been one of the minds? His mind was not in Hell. You-" Castiel's words freeze, as does his body and I find myself pausing a few steps afterward, turning to face him, "He does not know of this, does he?"

"Seriously, Cas? I know for a fact that my brother has the worst complex of self-doubt and constantly thinks so little of himself. At what point am I supposed to tell him I witnessed his pain and suffering? Or his dreams laced with revenge and torment? At what point do I tell Dean, a man that already harbors guilt over everything he can't control, that I only slept when he was able to because I was afraid of answering the knocking and clawing at the mental door while he was awake? He was screaming for my help, needing someone, anything, but he made me promise to keep that door shut and what did I do? Nothing!" I swallow back the sickening lump in my throat, "So, no. Dean doesn't know about it because I can't bring myself to place that guilt on his shoulders. If sleeping only two hours a day for three solid months was the only way to help him cope, I did it. I did it because I couldn't do anything more for him."

Castiel's eyes gleam with an unrecognizable look and seeing his eyes slowly trail down the length of my cheek, I realize my cheeks are moist. Reaching up, to wipe away tears, I pause when a single digit traces up the length of my cheek before appearing in my line of vision for a brief while. The lone tear resting on the pad of his index finger causes me to swallow thickly, watching as he brings the single droplet in front of his own gaze. Watching his head tilt in a rather adorable display of curiosity as his thumb brushes over the droplet, rubbing the moisture between the pads of his fingers.

"Uh...Cas, no offense, but don't ever do that again," I manage to say, watching as his eyes slowly open, his stoic face unable to hide the sympathetic sorrow in his eyes, "It's kinda creepy."

"I apologize. The complexities of human emotions baffle me. I never understood why the human eye leaks when one is sad, or why you make such loud noises when they are amused. It...is strange."

Awkwardly, I pat his shoulder for a brief moment, unable to stop the mild snickers from escaping my lips, "I get it, but...next time, just ask questions if you are curious. Anyway, thank you," Castiel's head tilts once again and I bite down the inside of my cheek, wondering if all angels are as adorable as this one, "For listening. Dean and the girls are the only people that know about the bond, but none of them know how...affected I am by it. Well, Kay might, but that's because she's too fucking smart for her own good."

The angel's dark blue gaze lifts skyward for a brief moment, "I must go. You should return to your brothers."

With a muted flutter filling the air between us, I find myself alone once again. Sighing, my eyes rolling at the thought of dealing with whatever my brothers are going through, I begin my trek back to the motel.

* * *

**Dean**

"She knows you don't trust her, you know," I state, giving a subtle glance at the figure sprawled along the back seat of the car, ear bud headphones plugged into her ears and blank, green eyes trained on the ceiling of the car.

After being sent back to the past, watching our mother make that deal with Azazel, and the revelation of Sam using his powers (and lying about it as well), I didn't like the idea of coming back to the motel room to find Sam pacing and Nat nowhere to be seen. She had returned not long after I punched Sam in the face, gave us both a quick, small greeting before she began packing up her things. She's been quiet, and obviously still upset about me shutting her out last night, because the favor is being returned and it makes my skin crawl.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, keeping his voice down.

Turning my gaze back to the road, my thumbs tapping against the steering wheel, I reply, "She asked me at the bar last night, after you left, why you seem hesitant to trust her. I told her that you haven't exactly been on the Christmas List of most Hunters we've come across."

Sam's eyes brighten with rage, "You told her?"

"No," I cut him off before he can go into one of his bitch fits, "I was gonna tell her, but she said she didn't want to know."

A pause of silence fills the air before Sam's tired voice asks, "She didn't?"

Rolling my eyes, wondering when he became so dependent on the care of others, I shake my head, "It's not like she _doesn't_ want to get to know you, but you haven't exactly been the most welcoming person. She figured you'd tell her when you tell her. Said we all have our secrets."

Sam snorts, arms crossing over his head, "You mean like the reason she has to be back at her bar by the end of the month?" I feel my eyebrows shoot up in shock at Sam's suspicious tone, "I was cleaning up her crap, came across a conversation on her computer talking about this Mika bringing something calls Liquid-V and how he's sweetening the pot with some additional stuff they're letting her get the first pick at."

"Are...Are you trying to suggest Nat is doing drugs? Really? No offense, Sam, but this? Coming from you of all people?" My voice raising slightly in defense to my twin.

How could I not? We may have just reconnected, but I'm pretty sure drugs is the last thing Nat would be doing. Although, it makes a person wonder what the conversation is really about.

Sam scoffs, "You don't know that."

"Yes, Sam. I do. Nat wouldn't do something like that," I argue.

Another scoff and I catch sight of one of his epic bitch faces, "Oh, that's right. Nat lives a perfect life and has everything figured out and couldn't possibly do _anything_ wrong."

"Sorry if I don't make it a point to lie to someone's face," Nat's voice suddenly breaks through the silence from the back seat and I flinch at the mechanical tone leaving her lips.

It's the same tone used after I asked her to come with us. The tone that marks an inner monologue running on hyper-drive. The tone that signals her curling back into her mind, hiding her heart.

I hate that tone.

Just as much as I hate her thinking she _has_ to hide her heart.

"H-how much did you hear?" Sam chokes out.

A dismissive click of her tongue against her teeth sounds before she replies, "Song ended just around the point of me being associated with drugs," I open my own mouth to let her know we know she doesn't, but her hand lifts lazily, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling, "If you must know, there is a certain...tradition held every year. I wanted both of you to experience the three solid days of absolute chaos. I mean...who knows when the next time we're gonna have time to enjoy life for what it is."

"What's the tradition?" I ask, curious about what my twin is hiding.

She snickers playfully, and another quick glance behind me allows me to see the blank gleam still in her eyes as she smirks at the ceiling, "I was hoping to make it a surprise, if you don't mind."

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbles, realizing he was in the wrong.

"It's whatever. Though, next time you get the urge to lie, do everyone a favor and just keep quiet. I'd rather not have my intelligence insulted by such obviously false pretenses," Nat replies, her voice whimsical and airy, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Turning my gaze toward Sam, my eyebrows knit together, "You lied to Nat too?"

"Said the two of you were in an argument because _he_ doesn't think we should be too quick to trust Castiel," she replies and I choke back the urge to snort at the thought, "I mean, I know I haven't exactly been around, but even I know Dean doesn't trust anyone, even if they do save him. Hell, Cas all but admitted that he knows Dean doesn't trust him."

I shake my head, wondering how Sam even came up with that one. Although, it doesn't take long for my fingers to grip the steering wheel tightly before turning it, my foot slamming on the breaks. Pulling over to the shoulder of the road, I ignore the string of curses from the back seat as Nat is thrown out of her comfortable position. Turning in my seat completely, I watch Nat sit upright, rubbing at her shoulder tenderly.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" she curses, green eyes glaring with annoyance.

"What the hell do you mean 'Cas all but admitted'?" She blinks slowly before a flicker of realization appears in her annoyed glare. "Don't tell me you're friends with that...angel?"

Nat rolls her eyes, shaking her head in a way that shows she isn't all that surprised by my reaction, "I never said Cas and I are friends. He's...an acquaintance of sorts."

"So you trust an angel we know nothing about?" Sam questions and I'm at least thankful that he isn't jumping up to trust them either.

"Of course I don't trust him," she replies fiercely, shrugging a shoulder in a thoughtful manner, "At least, not completely. You guys can think whatever you want, but I'm willing to give his feathered-ass the benefit of doubt, okay?"

"Why?"

The question asked by both me and Sam causes her to turn her gaze off to the side, her shoulders slouching in a protective gesture, "Because...he brought my brother back. His action allowed me a...second chance with you guys." I swallow thickly as a somber feeling flashes through our bond, "Why shouldn't I give him a chance?"

The car is silent. Not knowing how to respond to her words, and definitely not wanting to deal with this, I reach forward and turn the stereo up before starting back on the road again. In the rear view mirror, I watch as Nat plugs the ear bud headphones back in her ears, her green eyes once again blank as she lays back, sprawling across the seat. Feeling as though I passed up a serious moment, I clench the steering wheel again and turn my attention back to the road.

* * *

**Sam**

I huff in annoyance as Dean, once again, stalks off after the argument. I don't get why he can't understand. Why can't he see that it is possible for someone to be able to keep their darker side from affecting their life? This Rugaru case is difficult, watching as a common man, living in a common house and employed in a common profession, is slowly turning into one of the things we Hunt.

Glancing over at our silent sister, her fingers tapping at the keys of her laptop with a quick, angry pace. She hasn't said anything about the case, hasn't shown any desire to join in this particular one. Dean obviously doesn't like the fact that Nat has developed some kind of working relationship with this angel; an angel I have yet to meet. Looking over the mess of curls piled on top of her head and tired, somber green eyes skimming over the screen briefly before she is typing once again, I realize this isn't easy for her. Just like it hadn't been easy for me to pack up after Jess's death, she literally just packed a bag and jumped into the car, only because Dean asked.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, tensing as the tapping of the keys goes silent, her gaze slowly traveling from the screen before meeting my own. "For lying and giving you such a hard time. I...This can't be easy for you."

"Not really, but I'll get through it," she replies curtly, though not unkindly.

"I can do things," Her eyebrow cocks and I lick my lips, realizing this is the first person outside of Dean, Bobby and Dad, that I am telling about this, "Move things with my mind. Psychic powers. I...I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to think I'm a freak."

"You're a Winchester, Sam," My brow crinkles with confusion as a smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, "Psychic powers, or not, you're still a freak."

The teasing words leaves me relieved, yet stunned, "Y-you don't care?"

"Not really. Sometimes there are things about us, things that happen, that we can't control, no matter how much we want to. Do you wanna know why I talk to Cas?" My eyebrows shoot up, knowing that she hasn't even told Dean this, "When I first spoke with Cas, it was after Dean was brought back from Hell. He asked why Dean carried such a deep bond with a seemingly _random_ human." My lips part, the words I begin to say cut off when she nods, "Yup, that's right. You think you're a freak for having some powers you didn't ask for? According to Cas, I don't even exist. He's been trying to get information for me, try to find out why there's never been record in Heaven of a third offspring to Mary and John Winchester. Apparently, there are only a few beings with enough power to block a soul from Heaven's radar and I asked that he keep my existence a secret from the rest of his kind."

"S-so...Dean's been to Hell, I'm infected with Demon Blood," Nat's eyebrows knit curiously before understanding flashes in her gaze, "and in Heaven's eyes, you don't exist."

"Yup!" she remarks, a 'pop' marking the end of the word, "Us Winchesters are nothing more than freaks of nature hunting down fellow freaks of nature."

The following silence is broken when she begins giggling, her eyes bright and I find myself unable to keep my own laughter. The idea is ridiculous, but maybe that's the point. Maybe she's right. Maybe the three of us will never be normal.

Surprisingly, I'm okay with that.

* * *

**Nat**

The Rugaru case hits my brothers harder than either are willing to admit. The long week of keeping an eye on the guy, waiting for signs of his transformation, took it's toll. Sam breaking down and admitting to Dean that he now sees that nothing good could come of him using his powers is the highlighted moment after the case. Dean is apprehensive, I can feel it, and I can't help but think back to the conversation Cas and I had a week ago.

Cas's surprise toward the revelation of me dreaming of Dean's time in Hell leads me to believe that this bond is not something as trivial as a 'twin bond'. The fact that Dean has never spoken of the bond effecting him in the same manner as it does me leads me to believe that me being able to feel Dean's pain is not common, and not something that he receives on my behalf. If everyone has a reason for the life they live, was my only reason for living Dean's soul being trapped in Hell? There's no way Heaven and all of its _mighty_ warriors didn't see the Apocalypse coming. Is there something I'm missing? Something important.

_Even in the state of mind he was pulled into, his soul was unchanged, untouched by Hell's influence._

Blinking, I swallow thickly. State of mind? The last month! I only bared witnessed to three of the four months he had been in Hell. The last month was...nothing. Something happened. Something that, if Dean hadn't been who he is, would have changed my brother. Something influenced by Hell.

Subtly digging my palm pilot from my bag, I quickly type up a message to Kay.

_**Dig up any and all text or info you can on Revelations and the Seals.**_

_Something wrong, luv?_

_**I don't know. Not for sure.**_

_On it, Boss._

Putting the pilot away, I lean back in the seat, resting my head against the window. Closing my eyes, I drift away into a deep slumber, thoughts of the 'Hole' and home warming my dreams.

* * *

**Alright! I know this chapter is a bit short, but I promise the next chapter will be the long- awaited return to the 'Hole', where Nat's surprise is going to be. It is going to be a longer chapter, as it goes over the entire three days of non-stop chaos that is the 'tradition'. I promise, this next chapter will be a big ball of fun and perpetual insanity that can only come from one character mentioned in this story.**

**kdarnell2: Thank you for your reviews. I really appreciate it. Nat's budding friendship/acquaintanceship with Cas is, in my story, what pushes Dean to begin seeing Cas as more than just the 'angel that pulled him from Hell'. I figured, her words in this chapter is what gives him the incentive. Don't worry, while this story follows season 4 and 5, Nat and her big-bag-of-crazy is going to (for the lack of a better word) fuck up plans, as she stated in the beginning of the story.**

**That's right people, Natasha is going to cause twists and turns that steers away from canon, but it will happen as the 'season' progresses. So...be on the look out for things she changes. Some are big. Some are small.**

**Read! Review! **


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